The Jungle
by Song Birdy
Summary: rated T for sexual situations, drugs, violence, death. several cannon pairings. mulitchaptered The risings and downfalls of the Gods and Goddesses of East High School in multiple parts. missing an epilogue, never written
1. Introduction and Part One: Overture

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part One._

**author's notes**: I know, approximately three people are ecstatic to see this: I'm writing a multichaptered fanfiction. I'm not sure if I can guarantee you brilliance every chapter, because writing in longer segments than four hundred words tends to end up... less poetic. I do promise an interesting story though. And lovely poetic words, my style, obviously. Most of the couples are pretty cannon to start out. I kind of wanted to pick up after the summer after Twinkletown, but I wanted them to be seniors. I really don't care when you set this, it's after the movie. This chapter includes the introduction and the first chapter. I don't own Disney, enjoy.

_Introduction: The Setting of the Stage._

---

The first day of school. The atmosphere is thick with the smell of unbroken book spines, the floors are unmarked by the scuffing of sneakers, the desks, once covered in chewed up gum, have been scraped clean. The Gods and Goddesses of the Hallways have spent their summer months recalibrating, preparing their arsenal for a new semester, a new year. The underlings have spent their days of leisure recuperating, attempting to forget the horrors and nightmares once experienced in these hallways and trying to remind themselves: these are the best days of their lives.

East High School. The Jungle.

Enter the King of the Jungle: Troy Bolton. Beautiful, suave, the class hero, the singer, the actor, the basketball star. Too perfect for words to describe the icon he's become. He is the true Zeus of the hallways, and he reins over the Grecians with his winning smile and the swish of his basketball goals. By his side, his newest Hera: Gabriella Montez. Once the "freaky math girl" and now the cream of the crop, her voice and good looks aided her way to the top, but even she knows that her only true power lies with the King.

Stage Left. Sharpay and Ryan Evans, impeccable as always. The scent of perfume follows her as her designer heels click through the unmarked hallways, and Ryan follows in suit as always. Second fiddle is his best part. His courage is unseen behind his sister's masks and acts, his manhood hidden beneath the label "faggot" and a jazz square. They, in themselves, are their own stage show.

They are followed quickly by the Ice Queen's favorite treat - Zeke. He exudes from her a smile that only creeps out when onstage, offstage. He carries her books without complaint, she softens her harsh lines for the touch of his fingers. They forget their place in the world for one another, and the heavens tremble in fear of a breakdown.

Stage Right, Taylor McKessie. Beautiful, intelligent, confident, hypocritical, and snide. Her boyfriend Chad sees only the first three traits. She tempts with smiles and giggles, evil schemes set aside, she's as sweet as buttermilk pancakes on a cold Sunday morning. Chad, Chad, Chad. His smiles and quips and jokes are lost on such intelligence, his sweet and caring nature loses it's place in mathematical schemes to bring about the downfall of high school hierarchy, in which he is the court jester.

But no - he is not the real fool amidst them all. Jake. Jake and his quiet little girlfriend, Kelsi. They are the fools, for they do not fool the world but only they fool themselves, to throw away all of the powder for music notes is a joke, to hold his hand when he's cold and shaking and going through withdrawals like she's never seen any human suffer through is entirely unfair to such a small and innocent girl. She still grips him with ferocity, and he smiles for such a rock to cling to.

The stage is set, the players in their typical roles. The deities of East High set their territories, with smiles and hugs and "Omigosh, I'm so sorry I didn't call - how was your summer?" and new handbags and shoes and stories from _oh, those summer nights._

exeunt.

---

_Chapter One: Overture._

---

In his mind, Ryan Evans is the protagonist. His father is the antagonist. It is a simple plot of man versus man, and Ryan is set to lose. He has always believed his own life to be a tragedy. The Evans family is a functioning fallacy. Father with several bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, Mother standing around the house in pearls with a smile plastered to her face, son with a bottle of vodka each night, daughter with a mirror and the Original Broadway Cast of Mama Mia.

Show tunes are constantly playing through his head. Tap steps, jazz squares, punch lines, applause. It's the only way for Ryan to quit thinking of his father and his liquor cabinet. And how his father never misses anything from the liquor cabinet. Sharpay is a slave driver, a diva no longer in training, ready to walk over anyone to stand in a spotlight. She is more of her father than Ryan will ever be.

Some nights, he finds himself intoxicated. He pushes her, and she pushes back. She is no victim in her own family. He screams, that they are _wrong wrong wrong wrong_, and she finally breaks down and holds him. Some nights when she's not there though, he runs himself into walls and rips up his own allowance, not quite sure what to do with it - dirty money.

Because he knows what she does not.

"Hurry up, Ryan. We are not going to be late on the first day of our senior year, I absolutely refuse." She is snapping up the stairs as he takes one last swig of the bottle and tips his hat.

"Ryan?" She's screaming by this point, "Ryan if you do not get down here this instant, I am leaving you and you will, I repeat, you WILL ride the bus to your first day as a senior! That is not a threat-"

He smirks as he appears at the top of the double staircase, "I know, it's a promise," he mimics his sister perfectly, for he knows her every move. It's twin telepathy, she would say. He would rather say that it is spending six out of seven days a week rehearsing, but he bites his tongue to avoid the controversy.

"Well hurry up!" She flips her hair and taps her sparkling heels. "I will not have Bolton or Montez infiltrating to welcome Darbus back before we even arrive."

Ryan purses his lips and nods, following his sister.

If there is one thing he can say for her: she will always ensure that he is the king of something, if only so that she may remain queen.

---

"I can't-" Jake is saying. He's pulling back on Kelsi's hands and she's tugging patronizingly. "I just can't see Chad and Zeke again, not after what I did to them this summer."

"Jake," she's saying patiently, "I've already talked to them; they know you're clean now. I know you don't want me to know what happened, but I'm sure it will pass. They want to be your friends again."

His grip suddenly tightens on her hands, he feels his anger boiling - at himself, at her, at anything. His whole life seems so real and hard and out of control and if only she would let him go - but he turns and sees her eyes watering once again - no. He loosens his grip on her hands and frowns, "You're too good for me." He whispers.

"No," She frowns, "You're just flattering me because you don't want me to make you go to school."

He laughs. Comfort in a joke. They share a quick kiss and slide out of the car.

Quickly, his facade pulls up, "Ahh," He leans his head back into his hands, "I can't believe we're seniors. And babe, I've got you." She shakes her head and their act begins.

---

Troy Bolton puts very little effort into looking as good as he does. He combs his naturally shimmering hair to one side, throws on an ensemble and jets out the door each morning, pop tart in tote. He's naturally perfect.

Or, that's what his girlfriend Gabriella Montez believes. In her eyes, he does absolutely no wrong. He is perfection in the form of a high school athlete.

Coyly, she smiles as he picks her up on their way to school. Perfection. She giggles when he slips his hand into hers as they enter East High School. Perfection. When he carries her books to class. Perfection. When they sneak up to the gardens. Perfection.

But there is no such thing as true perfection, and this is well known by Gabriella's best friend - Taylor McKessie. She is trying so hard to fit into a world where she has always yearned to belong. Could the scheming duo of she and Chad Danforth make it? Could it be true that from something bad comes something good? No. Every memory she held of Chad was tainted with the idea of using him to get her own way. She is trying so hard to find that perfection she sees in Gabriella's life.

She is trying so hard.

---

Zeke tugs Sharpay into a broom closet. She laughs. He holds up something treasured to her in her face and she giggles even more.

"You are crazy!" She says, but she snatches the cookie and takes a quick nibble.

Zeke smiles and snakes his arms around her, "Go on, eat it."

She shakes her head and flattens her smile out, goofier than anyone would expect from Sharpay Evans, "Nope, can't eat in front of you. I'm not that kind of girl."

"What? The kind of girl who eats?" Zeke smiles and presses his lips against hers - midsentence as usual, "That," kiss, "I happen," kiss, "to know," kiss, "is a lie." Smirk.

Sharpay quickly shoves the cookie into her mouth and laughs, spluttering, "Delicious as always!"

---

_Fin._

Part One.

_more author's notes? yes..:_ I hope you guys will enjoy this and it won't be a scar on the face of smoggy nasty HSM fiction. Do not worry, all the sweetness is definately going downhill, in case you couldn't tell. P Update should be within the next two or three days. If not, you can send me hate PMs, I'm cool with that.

Loveyoukids.


	2. Part Two: Fever

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Two_

**author's notes**: Here is a random factoid for you. "The Jungle" is also the title of a book by Upton Sinclair, documenting the horrors of the meat packing trade, pre-health code laws. I've read it. Oh, and this story has nothing to do with meat packing. Okay anyways, back to the author's notes. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story, and thanks to everyone who reviewed between the time I posted it and the time I finished watching "The Couple" (which OH MY GOD YOU SHOULD WATCH IT'S AMAZING). So uhm. Since you were all so enthusiastic, here is part two. oh, and ps. it may or may not be ten parts. I can't decide. It might be longer. Who knows?

---

_Part Two: Fever_

---

Fever. He feels like he's having a fever then he's freezing then he's shooting up to a hundred and fifty again - and it never really stops, but he pretends it does when she's holding his hand.

Stupid. Hold on just a little tighter and maybe the fever will go away - maybe the world will start to feel real again, but then... maybe he doesn't want it to. Jake starts feeling as though he may explode if he holds out any longer, and he just wants one more - one more - one more - and one more becomes six more and six more becomes twenty more and hiding the drugs and the drinks from Kelsi is getting harder and harder and harder and he just keeps having one more and one more and one more until he thinks he might shove a gun down his throat and shoot himself-

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ -

But then he hears her voice on the phone. Soft, understanding, pushing him to hold on to the bedrail, clench his teeth, grin and bear it until the world starts to feel real again.

"Jake-" She will say, patronizingly, lovingly, patiently, like he always imagined would come from his mother's mouth, if his mother cared about anything other than dinner parties and the newest recipes she can compete in baking competitions with.

Kelsi strokes his hair the way he imagines his mother would - were she not busy stroking the egos of their neighbors. Kelsi holds him when he's sweating the way that he imagines his mother would - had she not hired nannies throughout his entire childhood to hold him through his fevers for her. Kelsi holds his hand patiently like he always imagined his mother would - had she ever even touched her son since he was four.

"Jacob," his mother will say to him from across the cold dinner table. On one end, his father, proud, business like, dignified in the ways of self-made men, on the other end, his mother, tall, haughty, diamond earrings and pearls over cashmere sweaters and pencil skirts, in the center, himself. Jacob.

"Jacob," she will say from across the table, "We are having a dinner party tomorrow night, I expect you to be there. The grey suit with a tie will be suitable attire." And she will return to her meal.

Jake will reel, never wanting another evening of his father's coworkers patting him on the back and calling him a "good boy", or "his father's son"-

_He was not a good boy. He was not his father's son_. He was Jake. He was mad, he was angry, he was addictive, he was addicted. He would sell anyone out for his magic powder, he would be anything to anyone to satisfy his own needs.

But Kelsi - she was the mother he wished he had. Patient, loving, caring, supportive, she believed in him more than anyone else. She put the basketball back in his hands after the night he realized his shaking hands could no longer hold it. She played him music to soothe his mind that did not pound in the message that he should just give into himself again.

She was the change he wanted to see within himself, and as long as she was around, he could pretend that he did.

---

Fever. She feels like she's surrounded by heat when he touches her. And he touches her in ways that she's never been touched before. Never rough - she's in a glass box to him, but never just the chaste kissing she'd experienced before. She digs her fingers into his mass of hair and whispers words that seem so strange coming from her mouth into his ear - the words he wants to hear. She laces her legs around him in the way that she always said that only sluts do and she lets her own body go in order to give into the sway of his hand.

Taylor McKessie uses her sexuality to keep Chad Danforth at bay.

Chad Danforth tentatively runs his fingers along her jaw line while she sleeps. He wonders when she became this - this girl who he could actually touch. Taylor McKessie was always an idea to him. Sexy, smart, scheming, and definitely just something to think about in the shower, not someone to actually pursue. And now that she is here - in his bed, in his fully capable hands, he wonders.

Does he even want her?

---

Fever. It's the feeling Gabriella Montez gets when Troy Bolton says her name just the right way. She giggles and laughs and he holds her by the waist in the way that he is supposed to as the perfect boyfriend.

The perfect couple. That's what they are. It's so easy, so simple, so pure. He never pushes for what she doesn't want, and she never teases with something she will not give. They finish each other's sentences, they lace each other's fingers during class, they rub noses together like kindergarteners. They are the perfect couple.

They feel the fever - the buzz each time they kiss, they feel the fireworks, the Disney World excitement of so this is love, they feel the blazing smiles across their faces when the other is near.

They feel the fever.

---

Fever. His blood is boiling when his father is near, remembering the oldest days, when he would spend the money without question, buying every matching ensemble with his sisters just to be something he wished he was. And now, his blood boils when he thinks of it.

He remembers his father. He remembers the blood. He remembers the gun.

_Dad? Why are you up so late dad?_

He's choking out to his father, sweat stained in his Armani suit, blood stains on his cufflinks.

_Nothing son, go to bed._

Ryan's whiping the sleep from his eyes, he's making out the image of the gun in his father's hands, the money in his hands-

_Dad, what's that?_

Seventeen years old, and he'd never questioned his father- not once.

_Ryan, if you do not go back to bed-_

Seventeen years old, and he'd never realized what his father had done -

_Not until you tell me why you have a gun!_

Panic. Run. Lock your door.

_Shut up! You're going to wake your mother and sister, they needn't be bothered with this._

Back up. Back up. BACK UP. Run upstairs. He stops at Sharpay's door. Creeks it open. Moonlight floods in like her very own spotlight - even a diva in her sleep. Ryan stares at her, what can he say? He shuts the door slowly. The steps are creeking, he scampers, frightened, tail between his knees, to his own room. Lock the door.

Reeling, he throws his whole weight around the room, shuddering, fearing, falling apart. He's questioning for the first time that which he has always known. That the money came and he spent it. Where did it come from? The Cayman Islands. Who cares who got hurt? Who cares- who cares who cares who cares - he had never seen any blood himself.

He had never seen any blood himself.

After a year of going through every liquor bottle in the cabinet over and over and over. Ryan Evans was becoming. He frowns more, he scowls more. He is less and less himself.

After a year of knowing who is father is - his father hands him a gun.

---

Sharpay Evans listens in on her brother some nights, but he doesn't know it. She hears him crying, she hears him laughing at nothing and everything at once. She presses her ear to the wall between their rooms and she hears him screaming at himself.

And she wonders - what could he be keeping?

---

_fin._

Part Two.

_MORE author's notes_: hm.. this part is pretty short, but it's pretty much that way because I was trying to cover two fairly different and unique but connected (oh yes, connected) problems within one chapter. Oh, and if you know me, writing the Troy and Gabriella parts really does kill me. Don't worry, it won't stay perfect for long. Thanks for all the reviews guys! Keeps me going on this craziness.


	3. Part Three: Halloween

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Three_

_author's notes_: Yeah, I really did take my time starting to write this section, but there was so much I wanted to cover in it. So basically, thanks for the reviews, guys! It really means a lot to me that such talented writers are reviewing my work. I hope you all are having a fantastic summer, as I am. I just got a car today! It's pretty ghettolicious too, so if you're my friend, ask me about it. Okay, enough updating about my life. It's been busy lately as my boo is leaving town for seven weeks on Monday. Sadness. So updating may take a day or two.

--- _Chapter Three: Halloween_ ---  
Ryan Evans's hands are shaking as he cups the gun against them. He's sweating, he's reeling. His father is pacing on the other side of the room. Any other night, he would have imagined the situation and laughed at it- his father waking him out of bed and tearing him down to the study in his pajamas, exfoliating cream and all - but his father had handed him a gun, and it had jolted him awake.  
He had almost forgotten the night he discovered his father's true employment when he had first been jolted from his sleep, but now reality comes crashing down to him again with the unexpected weight in his hands.

"What is this?" He asks bitterly, slamming it on the desk.

His father coolly looks over his glasses at his son in the way that makes Ryan squirm in his shoes, tighten his jaw, and glance to his feet, and then he says spittingly, "It's a gun, Ryan."

Ryan regains his strength and his nostrils flare as he snaps, "I realize that sir, I just don't know what you want me to do with it. I'm not you, I hope you realize -"

"But you are my son."

"I'm not some dumass hit man like you-"

"Hit man?" His father is chuckling now, "I fear you've seriously underestimated me."

Silence. Ryan does not even breathe- don't break the silence. Finally, "Sir?" he chokes out. Intoxication does not allow him to forget the formality of being an Evans.

His father slides into his seat and leans back, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth, "I have seen more in this world than you will ever understand. Drugs, weapons, money, gang fights, anything and everything you have ever seen in a movie, I have seen it ten times worse in reality. You, little Ryan, you I have pampered your whole life, and now I'm about to teach you about the real world-"

"There's a real world without all that, you know," Ryan mumbles, trying to back away.

"Not for you, Ryan."

"For me."

"You're an Evans and you're going to learn to be one." He coughs, leans over, and Ryan first begins to see a weakness in his father. The lines on his face begin to seem deeper, the wrinkles on his hands, the exhaustion in his voice, "I can't live forever, Ryan. And you're going to have to learn to be a man somehow."

"What for?" Ryan almost screams, "Why would I want to be your kind of man? You're despicable."

"Of course not, I forgot." His father glares, "Faggot."

Ryan's eyes glance to the floor, shame. "I'm not gay."

"Of course not. You're an Evans," Mockery, dismissal, "But you asked. Why would you want to be a man?"

His eyes force his son to nod.

"For your family."

"I'd sooner forget this family than be like you."

His father stands up, urgently. The calm of just moments before has disappeared completely from his face and voice, "Don't you ever say that. The severity of this situation is far more complicated than you can possibly understand. You know nothing of who your own father is and what I have done for you." The elder Evans man pushes his son against the wall, then growls, "So ask your question again."

"Why would I want to - to..?" _Don't cry, Ryan. Don't cry. Evans men never cry, you have known that since you were born._

"For your mother, for your sister, and for me. If you care about them at all. You'll do it."

Ryan pushes his father off and snatches the gun from the table, his back tensing and tears forming in his eyes, unable to turn and look at his father, for fear of discovery of the tears in his eyes. The gun cupped in his hands feels weightier and weightier by the second-

"I'll do it, okay? But only for Sharpay."

His father chuckles, "I knew you'd do it for her."

"Sir. What do you want me to do?"

---  
His chocolate hands rush over her vanilla skin. Dangerous combinations, in his mind, are always the best ones. And she tastes perfect against his lips. He'll whisper her name in her ear and she tense, she'll run her thumbs against the side of his face and he'll lean into them, they'll become one, _just for this moment, as long as you're mine_ - she'll whisper lyrics from musicals in his ears and he won't care that they aren't her own, but that she means them just the same.

Halloween night. They've snuck away from yet another of Chad Danforth's "oh so very droll" parties and sunk back into their own perfect universe, where actresses and varsity basketball players become one. Where they become one.

---

Troy Bolton's phone is vibrating in his pocket. He clicks it opened.

"Hello?" He asks, fully expecting the answer on the other line to be his perfect girlfriend, Gabriella. Fully expecting to hear her lovely voice telling him it is time to pick her up to head to Chad's party.

"Troy?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

Sobs on the other line, "It's Taylor - I'm sorry. I - I didn't know who else to call. Gabi and I haven't been getting along lately and oh god Troy. I'm sorry. Just forget-"

"No, no, Taylor, what's wrong?" Knight in Shining Armor.

"It's just.. Chad." She's crying again.

Panic in his voice, Troy answers, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Better than fine. He - uh, I." She pauses, blows her nose, "We broke up."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I - I might be. I just need someone to come talk to me. Over here, not on the phone. I don't know why I called you."

"Hey, no. Don't cry. I'll call Gabi and cancel for tonight. I'll be over in a minute."

---  
Halloween. Yet another excuse for a fabulous party. _A masquerade._

_The grey suit with the blue tie will be suitable, Jacob. We will have to locate you a mask._

The room is spinning, filled with laughing adults, tossing money to the side for drinks from the cash bar, hors devours dancing around the room as he falls back into a chair in the corner. Little, lost, forgotten Jake.

_God._

The music is blurring into sounds that seem as though they would only suit inside a circus, a dark circus. His now clean life, he laughs. A circus. And he - Jake - he was the biggest clown of all. Surrounded by the laughter of others, he was the one with the tear painted down the side of his face, and he could not wash it off.

_Damn._

He slips into the library. No one would be there-  
He stumbles in, past the books to the small corner by the window where they used to take his height measurements before his mother had them painted over. A slender figure startles in the shadows.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you, sir-" Respect. It's forced and habitual for the junkie prince. Perhaps he could slip up to his own room without much notice.

"Jake?"

Cock an eyebrow, "Ryan Evans?"

Silence. "Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

The elder Mr. Evans frequented his parents' parties. Mrs. Evans was a dear friend of his mother's, Mr. Evans, a colleague of his father's. He was well accustomed to making niceties to the Evans family, though he mocked their children in school - Theatre Freaks.

If Jake could have seen in the dark, he would have been able to see Ryan Evans slip a gun into his pocket from his lap. Ryan chokes a cough, takes yet another swig of a stolen bottle of whiskey.

"Being a man."

Oh, what dear Jacob didn't know.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure, fag."

"Asshole."

---

_fin._

_Part Three._

_author's notes_: I really wish I hadn't included the Troy and Gabi and Taylor plot. But as it is, there you have it. I hope you don't mind that it's.. confusing. My favorite bit is definitely the last part with Jake and Ryan. It's definitely getting interesting from here on out. Check for updates. Reviews!


	4. Part Four: All Saints Day

**The Jungle**

_By Song Birdy_

_Part Four_

_author's notes_: can you tell that I always write the first author's notes before I write and the last ones after? or that I usually write every chapter in one sitting? I wonder if I'm ever that obvious. It's just how I am. My boo (my not quite boyfriend) is leaving tomorrow for his mission trip and I won't be seeing him again for seven weeks so I'm gonna delve into writing to cheer me up. So uhm, enjoy some creepy wonderfulness. I think I'm going to enjoy this chapter a lot. Oh, also, I am a big fan of time gaps, so yes, a lot of this has big time gaps. For example: Chad and Taylor breaking up was something that just was going to happen, they just weren't working out. I didn't want to detail it because it's unimportant to their characters, in my opinion. Large time gaps are meant to be filled with imagination.

NOTE: This chapter includes a few flashbacks, hopefully you can follow them.

Six points for anyone who can find the words that aren't really words (not including the blood segment).  
and EXTRA points for those of you who can figure out which word I forgot to spell check in chapter three.

loveyoukids.

---

_Part Four: All Saints Day._

---

_Blood blood blood blood, oh my god, everywhere bloodbloodbloodohgodblood._

Ryan Evans's hands are covered in blood. This was not the way it was supposed to be - he was supposed to be cool, calm, collected, _take the money, take the package, leave the body_. Leave the body, it was for someone else to handle. Someone lower on the food chain. An Evans, Ryan was born into hierarchy, his very own crown of a revolver. He was supposed to be calm, cool, collected. But Jake -

He remembered the instructions his father had given him, the almost rehearsed answers he'd puppetted, "Yes, sir."

"There is a masquerade this weekend at the Cross estate."

"And?"

"Mr. Cross is a -" his father coughed, "a colleague of mine."

Ryan scoffs, "A colleague, su-"

"Ryan - " His father's eyes need not scold him further than his voice, but they do.

"I apologize, sir." Ryan's stomach sinks again, feeling as though he is in a dream, and this topsy turvy world will disappear when he wakes and splashes warm water against his face to exfoliate in the morning.

"He is a colleague of mine, and there is a man who we need to retrieve a package from."

"A package?"

"Yes. You need not know the contents of this package; merely that he will be delivering it to you following the party."

Ryan let out a sigh - relief. The gun must be for protection, then. He was only a boy, a package boy. A boy to pick up a package at a party seemed harmless. He could even lie to himself - the package contained several different samples of cheeses which his father and Mr. Cross were going to sample at a wine tasting at the Evans Estate the following weekend -

"The thing is, Ryan, after the package is delivered, we ah," he cleared his throat at this point, knowingly. He nodded toward the gun, resting in the hands of his only son.

Ryan panicked, yanking his hands away from the weapon and leaving it in his lap, laying there as though it had a mind of its own, "Father, you can't honestly expect me to -"

"It is of utmost importance. You need not know more for your own safety, but I need you to do this for me," and the tone of his father's voice changed, to almost begging, something which Ryan never thought he would hear his father do, even before his original discovery, "I need you to do this for our family. You need not know the details, but we are in grave danger."

Ryan felt as though his entire world was spinning, and the look on his father's face was the only thing standing still in the entire universe. He thought of his mother, her bright smile and shining pearls, practicing her golf swing in their spacious backyard and waving to him on his balcony. He thought of his sister, determined and hard working - she was going to make it to Broadway if she had to step on every other actress on her way up to do it. He thought of all those nights they had fallen asleep together after spending hours laughing and enjoying their collection of Original Broadway Cast Recordings. He could not let anything happen to them - his mother and sister, who knew nothing of these dealings. Who were completely innocent.

He was completely innocent. Or at least, he was.

Now, he is standing in a pool of blood, with Jacob Cross standing over his shoulder - he is shaking, he cannot seem to hold the gun in one place, he is falling apart.

"Oh my god," Jake is mouthing, "Oh my god, Ryan. Oh my god, I'm going to call the cops, did you see what happened?"

Ryan reels, _Jake didn't see it? How could he not have seen it?_

"No!" Ryan screams, "No, don't call the cops," Calm, smooth, like his father would be proud of, "No, let's just.. let's get out of here, this is too creepy for me."

Ryan feels the package in the inside of his waistcoat, and he wonders what he is holding so close to his heart - what he would have killed for.

_A cog in the machine_, he realizes, _that's all he is_. A cog in the machine. He is the part of a machine that he doesn't even understand, and he would kill for it. The gun he puts into his pocket where he'd been hiding it before, and Jake grabs him by the arm and they run.

They run and they run and they run and they run.

---

A knock at the door.

"Taylor, it's me, Troy." Taylor gasps, unprepared completely for Troy Bolton. Had she really called him? Had she really asked him over?

"One second!" She is throwing clothing about the room to the laundry basket, smoothing her hair, and making her bed all at the same time.

She opens the door. And there he is - The Zeus of East High School, Troy Bolton, with a bar of chocolate.

She laughs, he is confused for a moment and then, "Oh, yes. My mother always told me that girls want chocolate when they're upset so - here it is!"

Taylor takes it and smiles, "Well, thanks. That's sweet of you." She pauses and motions for him to sit down on the bed with her, "I honestly don't know what got a hold of me when I called you. It's just that - Oh," she starts to tear up, "Chad told me that he didn't want me anymore. That I wasn't everything he expected."

Troy shrugs, awkwardly, "Well, Chad's my best friend. He's a good guy. He probably just has -" He fumbles for words, "Some things going on in his life that he can't handle right now. Things he doesn't want you to have to go through with him. I know our friendship suffered a lot when his brother moved out of their house and when he gets stressed, he really pulls away from people, that's just how he -"

"No, no," Taylor is saying, leaning back onto the bed, "He made it perfectly clear that it was me that was wrong with the relationship. Maybe it's just that I'm not a cheerleader, that I'm too nerdy for him, not pretty enough, I don't know."

"You're pretty enough, Taylor, don't kid yourself." He places his hand on her knee, comforting.

She sits back up and looks him in the eye, then blushes, looking downward, "Thanks Troy."

He pulls his hand back, tentatively.

"I guess I understand what he means though," She says, "That it wasn't everything we expected. Do you ever feel that way? With Gabi, I mean?"

Awkward pause, "You don't have to answer."

"No, no," Troy is backed into a corner, "I understand exactly what you mean. It's a guy thing - the thrill of the chase. Chad is a chaser, and when he finally gets the girl, he wants another chase. When he realizes what he's missing, he'll come back to you."

Taylor smiles, "I don't know if that's going to work out," Troy gives her a confused look, "Oh, I mean to say that he's a great guy, but I definitely think that I can do better."

Her eyes are boring into him, and he feels the heat between their two bodies - a physical heat he has never felt from the sweet and innocent girl whose hips he loves to hold in his hands. He chokes out the words, "What do you mean?"

She is scooting closer and closer to him on the bed, "You are such a great guy, Troy. The perfect guy-" She is breathing into his neck now, and he wants to so badly -

"Taylor-" He says, firmly, "Taylor, I am with Gabriella."

She sinks back, "I know. I know. I just," And he looks at her, chocolate brown eyes and all, "I need someone to hold me tonight. To make me feel wanted. Troy Bolton, I can give you what Gabriella won't," She snakes her legs around him, she kisses his neck, she whispers in his ear, "No one has to know."

He quickly flips her over and is on top of her, they connect lips, angry, passionately, in a more physically demanding way than he would ever dare to kiss Gabriella Montez - animal like. She smirks, "Now, that's the Troy Bolton I always knew was there."

---

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hey, this is Jake, sing your song at the beep." _Click._

Jake is not picking up his phone. Kelsi Neilson wonders to herself, _could he have just gone to bed? That must be it_. His parents were forcing him to stay for their masquerade, to be a good little boy and entertain his father's coworkers - it's just, it wasn't like him to not call her, even to tell her just simply that he was clean all day and that he loved her.

She frowns and hits her speed dial again.

---

When Ryan Evans wakes up, he can't remember where he is, what he's done, who he is with. The scene before him is mind boggling: instead of waking up in his spacious room underneath his framed promotional poster from the musical Wicked, he wakes outside, on a hill, in a suit - with the weight of the gun and package still in his pocket.

_Oh my god._

Jacob Cross lay next to him. Probably still strung out from whatever he had taken last night. Ryan had not attempted to argue with the boy, who was already freaked out before the gun shot, when he had unrolled some white powder from his pocket and started to snort it in the most pathetic way off of the ground that Ryan had ever seen - if his headache served him correctly, he had kneeled before the powdered god himself and given away his soul to a gun.

He nudged Jake with his foot. God, if he could have known this would be the situation he would be in now a week before, he would have laughed and said it was nearly impossible. Jake didn't move. Ryan didn't care.

Slowly, as he shook his aching head, the events of the night before flooded back into his brain.

The way the man had laughed at him when he'd approached him, "I thought Evans said he was sending his son, not his daughter."

Ryan had lost control of his own temper and pulled the gun immediately, shoving the other man against the wall and placing it to his temple, he had never imagined himself shooting anyone, holding a gun to anyone's head, but this was just another part he was playing and when the show was over, he was going to get the flowers: his mother and sister.

He throws up on the lawn next to Jake. _Murderer._

"Ah, man." Jake mumbles, half asleep still, "Why'd ya have to do that! I thought you could hold your liquor."

Ryan frowns, unable to explain as he throws up again, "Well, I guess not."

---

_fin._

_part four._

_author's notes_: I wrote that in a span of an hour. It is my favorite chapter so far. Slutty Taylor is something I've wanted to write for awhile now. Please, don't hate me forever for writing her. She is a complex character who I feel was broken by her own ambition to become a popular girl. She sold out and Chad left her because he didn't like who she became. If that covers the gap for you. More drama to come. Probably tomorrow, because my boo is going to be gone.


	5. Part Five: See, I'm smiling

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Five_

_author's notes_: I've been caught. I accidentally named Jason Jake and it's just stuck that way. Ah well, c'est la vie. I must have a penchant for writing in the middle of the night. This one's for you kids who read in the middle of the night.

More flashbacks galore.

Seven points for the person who knows what the title of this chapter is from.

ps. the six from last chapter so go to Star Vitamin.

---

_Part Five: See, I'm smiling._

---

Jacob Andrew Cross III. Six foot one. Dark brown hair. Addicted to crack, marijuana, tobacco, and alcohol. He's a six foot one Pluto. God of the underworld, but nobody knows. When he walks through the hallways with his arm slung around his girlfriend, the rest of the world just sees Hercules, the hero. Not quite Zeus, but definitely someone to recognize.

But Kelsi - she always sees.

Six missed calls. One new voicemail. All from Kelsi. He hesitates as he types in his passcode. _Oh god, she knows._

"Hey Jake - it's Kelsi. I know you're probably just sleeping or something but I was worried about you so uhm, call me back."

His head is still aching from the night before - his mind is barely recalling the events. The party, the drinks with Ryan Evans in the library, Ryan left, Jake was going to go to bed but as he walked by the front door he heard the gunshot.

_What the hell was Ryan doing there? What was that sound?_ He creaked the door opened and _oh my god._

The events following had blurred into one in his mind and he tried to discern the gruff tone in Ryan's voice that he had never expected from the way that they ran as far as they possibly could - in suits and all - to the moment when they leaned over on their hands and knees in the grass -

To the moment when he woke up and saw the blood on Ryan's cufflinks and he realized - quickly, Jake had searched the boy's pockets and found the gun and _oh god oh god oh god_ he needed something - being rich did have it's benefits and enough of his magic powder to make it twice in one night was definitely his favorite.

And now he had to run again. Ryan had been there when he'd woken, sitting and staring out over the park. He wondered - what a site they must be, two teenaged boys laying together in the park in the early hours of the morning, the sun just rising over the dry Albuquerque sky. What a site they must be - _poor little rich boys._

But then again - Ryan was something more than just that. Ryan was a cog in their machine. The machine that Jake had spent his whole life avoiding, and now he began to realize how deep the bloodline grew. Ryan had thrown up, from the looks of it, multiple times. Jake pretended he knew nothing; he was used to nothing different. Don't say a word. I'll never tell. That was the family crest.

God, if only he could tell this to Kelsi.

His hands are shaking as he dials her number back. Number three on speed dial, right after voicemail and his mother.

_Ring. Ring._

"Hello?" Of course she would have played it cool, waiting until at least the second ring.

"Hey babe, it's Jake." _Nonchalant, that's right, Jacob. That's how you tell a lie._

"Oh gosh, hey. Are you alright? Of course you're alright. You're fine. You're just calling me to tell me to calm down, right? Oh gosh, I'm babbling again. Sorry."

Jake laughs, it was almost as though he really laughed, "You're right. I am fine. I just fell asleep after the party is all. How was your Halloween?"

He pretends to listen to her mindless answer - _it was great honey, really_. - he's remembering the weight of the gun in his hands, the look of shock on Ryan's face when he'd first come out of the house _- I just took my little sister trick or treating_ - the way that Ryan had been so willing to run away, so quick to flee the scene - _then I just came home and called you_ -

"But I figured you'd just gone to bed."

"Yeah. Yeah." He frowns, and then forces a smile as he answers her.

---

The morning after Halloween, Gabriella Montez feels as though her head might actually explode. She's tasted her first taste of vodka, and she's never going to try _that_ again. She's feeling nauseous -

A knock at the door. She grumbles incoherently to come in, and the door creaks open, timidly, he asks, "Gabi?"

She rolls over in bed, still halfway in her Daisy Duke costume from the night before. And there he is - her perfect Zeus.

Flowers. White daisies. Her favorite.

"These.." He pauses, embarrassed, "These are for you. Sorry I had to call last night off."

"No, it's okay," She smiles and sits up, "I went to Chad Danforth's party."

Troy laughs at this. "That's why you're so... groggy."

She buries her head in the pillow and emits an incoherent noise, then looks up and says dramatically, "Never again!"

"Thank you, Sharpay." He grins. She shoots him a look and he sits down next to her on the bed. "Well, I came to see you, but if you're not feeling well, then I'll come around later?"

Gabriella nods and snuggles deep down into her blankets, he kisses her forehead, then chastely, her lips. She smiles warmly and he grins. She could not be more perfect.

If only she knew the guilt in his heart as he left her room that morning.

---

Taylor McKessie is smiling. She's smiling because she's gotten what she's wanted, for once in her life. She said to herself, _I want that one_, and she got him. Everyone told her that he could not be swayed, that he would never leave his precious Gabriella, but now she held his secrets. She held a part of him that Gabriella would never hold, and she knows it. And so, Taylor McKessie smiles.

---

The morning after the morning after the morning after, Zeke Baylor wakes up with a goddess. She's never been touched and some nights he thinks she never will be. He respects her too much for that. He always saw something in her that was just so... _cool_. She was who she was and that was the end of the story. She was Sharpay Evans and she wasn't going to change that to make the world happy. She didn't have to. And when he kisses her, she smiles.

---

_Loyalty is rewarded with loyalty._

That's what his father told him. He delivered the package, he didn't ask questions. He hid the gun under his mattress, he burned the blood-soaked suit - he'd just buy himself a new one. If the money was dirty, it was dirty by his own hands now. He might as well spend it.

Ryan Evans was a walking contradiction, a self-righteous killer afraid to hold a gun. Ryan Evans put on a cold face; he was an actor, after all. It was easy.

How easy it was to pretend that it had all been a role in a show. The final scene, the final bows were over. He'd never go back there again.

The lies he tells himself at night are becoming more and more faded with the truth, and he's praying to a deity he's forgotten ever existed. Worship the white powdered god, pray to Zeus and Hera. Pay homage to the temple of Bacardi, smile when you rehearse with your beautiful (_alive_) sister.

Smile and pretend it never happened.

But when he looks into Jake's eyes, Ryan knows. He remembers that it did. But Ryan is an actor. He plays his part.

He smiles.

---

_author's notes_: short, I know. But you know you wanted the fifth part. so ah, I'm thinking this is definitely going to end up being more than ten parts, because I honestly don't see the plot ending anytime soon, mostly because half of the time I write a chapter, nothing happens, I just describe things. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Remember those points!


	6. Part Six: Paper Faces on Parade

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Six_

_author's notes, as always_: I have danced four hours each night this week, I can't feel my legs. The seven points so totally go to Robin (TehFuzzyPenguin) for not only figuring out where the title came from, but also for having the best name ever. Go Robins of the World, UNITE! (For the record, my name is Robin.) Also, I adore Norbert Leo Butz as well. And "The Last Five Years"... it makes me cry. Ah uhm, Let's see. Thanks for reviewing again you guys, keep them coming. They brighten my life. And make me feel like writing, seriously. Eventually, when I'm done with this, I'm going to write a story where Taylor is sweet, because I feel like I'm making her so nasty. (But of course, I love her)

Why must I make them so miserable?

(Of course, except Zeke and Sharpay, because they're adorable.)

Most of the action of this chapter takes place in late November.

Oh, and ps. I so drop the GD bomb in this chapter, for that I apologize. Honestly, I would never actually say GD. It's just the writing - stylistically and rhythmically it fit there.

---

_Part Six: Paper Faces on Parade_

---

Chad Danforth is spinning out of control - not in the way that everyone expects, but then, he's never been one to do what everyone expects of him. Everyone expects him to be heartbroken, everyone expects him to drink heavily, call Taylor crying, and fall apart. But he isn't Troy, and Taylor's not Gabriella. He frowns. _Taylor isn't even Taylor anymore_; At least Chad was still himself.

He was trying so hard to make it work - it was easy to go on double dates with Troy and Gabriella, movies, dinners, burgers, carnivals, laughing, joking, and having fun - a bunch of friends. But at the end of the night it was just him and Taylor - and at first it was perfect. She was smart, funny, and cute in a way that none of the cheerleaders he'd ever been with before were. She was everything that nobody ever expected him to fall in love with -

But he did.

And the months went by, and summer days turned into nights, and then came the fall. Everything changed. They were seniors, he was the second most popular guy in school, Taylor was his girlfriend - she changed. Her clothes, her attitude, she even became sexual - something he'd never expected of his sarcastic genius of a girlfriend. When he looked into her eyes, she was still Taylor, but everything she did was so.. _not_.

Chad Danforth is spinning out of control, a different girl every night. He sometimes gets the point where he can no longer remember their names - it doesn't matter anyways, they're all Taylors to him. They're all the girl that wants to be next to Chad Danforth in the hallway, they're all the girl who would sell her soul to be popular.

Chad Danforth is spinning out of control - Everyone expected it from him.

---

Ryan thinks in rhythms, Sharpay thinks in applause. That's the problem with them lately - every tap step is a syncopated gun shot, every music note struck with melancholy that Sharpay cannot hear.

"Ryan, get your head in this! We do not want Troy and Gabriella to beat us again!" She is snapping at him, in her normal controlling way. That was Sharpay, competitive to the core. She would step on a four year old child if it meant she could get her spotlight back, and Ryan felt no doubt about that.

"Sorry," He mumbles back to her, and she rolls her eyes.

_Sorry never gets you anywhere in life_.

"Sorry never gets you anywhere in life. And definitely nowhere onstage. Now let's try this again."

_Five six seven eight_. Kick, spin, lift, catch, shimmy, shake your booty, turn, cartwheel, throw in a jazz square. Perfection is nowhere in real life - it's only onstage. And only when Sharpay is in charge. That is what Ryan loves about theatre, nothing about him is real anymore; it's all Sharpay's perfect image of him.

He's a real man, because all men dance in the theatre, that's just the way Sharpay would have it. He's strong; he can lift the pretty girl, even if she is his sister. He's handsome, and not just in the boyish way that he is at school, with his baby face and perfectly coordinated ensembles. He always gets the girl, because the audience never wants to leave not knowing that the hero wins in the end. He's the perfect man, including witty dialogue and snappy dance numbers -

But most of all, in the theatre, he's innocent.

He's never had a drink, he's never done any drugs, he's never been paid to not talk, he's never shot a man.

Ryan just never imagined the theatre would expand to include his entire life, and that he'd never again take his mask off.

"Ryan?" Sharpay huffs, "God, I don't know where you are today."

Ryan frowns. He's on the edge of saying everything - _God, who would Sharpay tell anyway?_ But _Loyalty is rewarded with Loyalty. Secrecy with Secrecy_. That is what he learned from his father, and he looks at her and says quietly, "Me neither. Must have slept wrong or something. Sorry." She shoots him a look, and he rolls his eyes, doing his best impression of her, "Sorry never gets you anywhere in life."

She laughs, but in truth, Sharpay Evans will never forget the look that he gave her before apologizing.

---

Jake and Kelsi are kissing, and not for the first time. God, she's so real to him. So sweet, so delicious. She is everything that he imagined a woman should be, only about six inches shorter, with a quirky personality that makes him feel like he should be a better person.

Jake and Kelsi are kissing, and he feels like he's real again.

Kelsi is kissing Jake, and she feels as though she's losing herself. Phone call after phone call, she always worries about him, and deep within her mind she knows that he's not clean. And deep within her mind she knows why he's lost all of his friends. Zeke. Chad. How could she lie to him and tell him that they'd forgiven him?

How could he believe her? He didn't, really. But he needed to. He needed to believe her to feel real again.

Sometimes, he thinks back on that night, early in the summer, partying, having fun, not even looking for summer jobs yet, and he wonders to himself, _How could he have been so desperate?_ He had the money, _why did he have to take theirs_? _Why did he have to drag them down with him_? Dark nightclubs filled with flailing people, none of whom could even remember their own names - God, he could never take Kelsi there. _Why did he take Zeke? Why did he take Chad?_

How could he have yelled those things at them? Thrown up all over them - Screaming the whole time that they'd _never understand_. God - no wonder they hated him.

He's kissing Kelsi because she is the only thing left he loves in the world. And when she's kissing him, he sometimes doesn't even hate himself.

---

She's god damn perfection underneath his hands, and he's dirty, soiled, not even worth her time. She doesn't know it. If Gabriella Montez wanted to, she could follow the clues he leaves, the cancelled dates, the flowers, the one time he even picked up the phone and Taylor was talking - naughty things into his ears - in the background. If Gabriella Montez wanted to, she could expose Troy Bolton as the liar that he really was.

She didn't know she could. The clues go oft unnoticed, and Troy is beginning to think if he came to her house with lipstick on his collar, she might not say a word. She is perfectly content in their relationship, but he feels himself drawing more and more away from her. Her beauty and sweet persona never alter, and she is always the picture of perfection in his eyes - he loves her. The idea of her, the way she snuggles into his chest when he holds her, even just.. Gabriella, no makeup, lying in bed with him, telling him stupid jokes. He loves her.

But he lusts for Taylor. Her cocoa colored body, her daring whispers in his ear, the chase, the thrill, the secret. It's all too daring and dark and dirty. Some nights he stands in the shower, hoping to wash the scent of Taylor away from him, off of his body forever, and the next time she calls in that sultry voice _Troy, will you help me out at home with my.. basketball hoop?_ Stupid puns, she giggles in the way that he despises, and he always gives in - always. Call Gabi, cancel. Taylor wraps her legs around him and he gives in to his darker side.

But Gabi's dark brown eyes hold his entire heart and soul.

He's running into walls, and Zeus is falling.

---

_author's notes_: God, I never thought I'd feel bad for Gabriella. But I do. Gosh, slutty Taylor amazes me though. I can't believe I wrote this all in one sitting. I actually like it a good bit too. Oh, by the way, I wrote the Chad part just for you guys, and I ended up loving it. So thanks for asking about Chad. Now you know. God, I see no happy endings in sight. Except for maybe Sharpay and Zeke.


	7. Part Seven: Christmas

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Seven_

_author's notes_: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though it did actually take longer than twenty four hours to get it up, lol. Though I really ought to take off the "in ten parts" because that was just a rough estimate.. and it will probably be way more than ten, because I can't honestly write the endings I have in mind in ten parts. Maybe eleven or twelve. I've finally decided how everything is going to end. Which is a load off of my back! So here we go, enjoy this chapter!

ps. I really do love Zeke and Sharpay together. I've been absolutely dying for some fluff of them, so here we go

pps. I think I'm supposed to warn you at some point if I'm going to include character death. Consider yourselves warned.

ppps. Here is the lowdown on the time in this chapter. The first takes place on the last day of school before Christmas Break, the second on Christmas Eve, and the third on Christmas Day.

---

_Part Seven: Christmas._

---

Old friends are not like old socks, you cannot slip into them anytime you want and remember the exact comfortable feeling that any old argyle will give to you whenever you ask of it - Jacob Cross knows this. Six months of not speaking to Chad and Zeke, and by way of them, any of the other guys from the team, has been weighing down on his mind, when he can think straight, that is.

Which is why he's standing here, breathing. _In and out, slowly. Clean. In and out, you can do it_. For one damn time in his life - he couldn't do this on drugs, it wouldn't be right. That's why he's standing here breathing.

"Chad -" The boy turns, and for a moment the Jake feels as though the socks analogy might be wrong, that the smile on the boy's face may mean that all is forgiven that they an be friends again - but it fades.

"Oh, it's you." Oh, it's you. God, what can he say to that? The breathing is failing, _short short long? _Oh god.

"Chad, I wanted to talk to you," Some foreign god has taken over his body, benevolent and guiding him to say the right things. He motions towards a back hallway and they duck into it.

The look on Chad's face is easily readable - _I don't want to talk to you. There is nothing you can say that will make me be your friend again. You are a pathetic loser who is no longer worth my time trying to save._

Jake's fumbling, "I uhm. I wanted to apologize, for real. For.." Oh god, he's going to throw up, "For what happened this summer. It wasn't right - what I said to you. It wasn't fair of me to say."

_God, Chad, you're such a pansy! That's right, I said it, a pansy!_

"You're right, it wasn't."

_You little second best faggot. You can't live up to your own best friend and you act like you're so high and mighty - hah! You little fag. I bet you rub his feet when he asks you to, don't you, Chad?_

"I, uhm. I was hoping we could be friends again?"

_You're a real asshole when you're on this stuff, you know that, Jake?_

"You clean?"

_No, you guys are the assholes, Chad. You guys are the ones who don't even see what you are - you don't see it! You're fading out as the days go by, becoming everything you hoped you wouldn't - at least I'm - I'm doing it myself and not letting it just happen -_

"Somewhat."

_Jake, don't -_

"What does 'somewhat' mean?"

_Zeke, don't get me started on your little whipped ass. You might as well join Danforth and Bolton in their little fag fest the way you let that bitch walk all over you - I bet she does you, doesn't she?_

"It means.. mostly. I guess. Most of the time I'm clean."

_You little -_

"Jake, if you're not completely clean -"

_Zeke, don't even waste your time on him. He's lost._

"I know, I know," Jake is saying, he's embarrassed. At one time he saw Chad as just another guy, always ready for any sort of thrill - maybe even less of a guy than Troy Bolton. But now Jake was seeing what he never noticed before - Chad Danforth was not just another guy. He was a good guy, benevolent, righteous, and everything Jake himself could never be.

Chad pats him on the back, friendly but cold, "Call me when you're clean, Jake. You know.." He chokes and looks up, "You know we can't be friends until you're clean. Completely."

Hardened. Chad Danforth had let down a wall for Jacob Cross for two minutes and in two seconds constructed the entire thing again. Jacob felt his heart sinking -

_Don't even waste your time on him. He's lost._

"Oh hey!" Jake calls after him, Chad turns, "Merry Christmas."

Chad frowns, "You too."

---

Christmas time is a time for joy, a time for sharing, a time for family, and usually to Sharpay Evans, a time when even Neanderthal rappers try to sing. But this year is something special - this year she has a boyfriend. This year there is someone to wait for under the mistletoe, this year there is someone to agonize over what to buy for them.

She's found the perfect gift. It means everything. But she's afraid - _what if he doesn't like it? What if it's stupid? What if it's too much?_

She asked her mother, "Mother, what should I get Zeke for Christmas?"

Her mother, all smiles and blonde hair and pearls asked amazingly simply, "Well, that all depends - do you love him?"

Sharpay blushed. Her mother showed her what to do.

And here she is now, holding the little silver wrapped box in her hands impatiently. Christmas Eve - the air in Albuquerque is colder than usual, and there is even brief talk of maybe a flurry in the night - _it's all so romantic_, she thinks to herself.

Sitting in her living room in her usual perfect attire, she flattens her hair, nervous for one of the first times in her life. She tells herself in her mind that she shouldn't be nervous, she's Sharpay Evans. _You're Sharpay Evans and you do what you want when you want because you're amazing_ - but there is another voice in her head, the one that has a soft spot only for a basketball playing baker with a heart of gold and hands of an angel saying what ifs until she feels her palms begin to sweat.

She paces in her designer heels, ignores her brother as he sulks past and mumbles a brief "Merry Christmas" to her.

She examines herself in the full length mirror in the corner - green dress, unexpected, because everyone expects red, silver heels, silver jewelry, big smile, perfect hair. Everything was in place. The little box in her hands with the silver wrapping paper and the big red bow.

She breathes, in and out, in and out, and she smiles at herself in the mirror, mouthing the words "Hi Zeke" and "I hope you like it". She's never given a gift that means anything before.

And then the doorbell rings.

_Oh my god, it's him._

And it is. He's all perfect smiles and casual cool jeans with a button down shirt that makes her heart mysteriously melt in a way that she cannot even stand. They exchange the formal "Merry Christmas"s and she escorts him to the living room so that they can partake in their formal gift exchange before the romantic dinner she has set up in the pool house.

He's nervously fumbling in his pocket when he pulls out a small box wrapped in dull greenish paper, but mostly wrapped in tape. He hands it quickly to her, embarrassed.

She smiles, anything he could give her will be perfect - even if were just a cookie. She opens up the box slowly and her breath catches and heart stops temporarily, but literally, when she sees its contents. A tiny ring - with a little turquoise jewel in a tiny silver heart. She covers her mouth and looks at him -

"It's -" he fumbles, "It's a promise ring." She lets out a little laugh and he panics, "Oh gosh, you don't like it - it's okay!"

"No," she says, handing it to him to slip it on her finger, "No, it's perfect." As he slips it on, she lightly kisses his lips and he smiles, then she hands him the silver box from beside her, "Now open yours."

As he unwraps it, he heart wrenches, and when he opens the box and he laughs, she takes him by the hand, "It's a promise ring."

---

Troy Bolton has purchased two different necklaces from the jewelers. He never imagined he would be purchasing a gift for Taylor as well as Gabriella, in fact, he never imagined his relations with Taylor would have progressed any further than Halloween night - but once bitten, the apple always looks sweeter.

And so he's left them on his nightstand. He doesn't even notice when he leaves his pretty girlfriend, Gabriella, in his room alone - that she may sneak about to spy her Christmas gift.

She frowns when she sees two identical boxes, and opens them. Each is the same necklace, but one is silver and the other is gold. Quickly, she shoves them back into the bag and to where she's found them.

And the day before Christmas when she only receives the silver chained heart pendant, she wonders who exactly the other necklace is for - _it's for his mother_, she lies to herself - but she cannot lie much longer. The torn look in Troy's eyes is telling above all else, and Gabriella can no longer hide in naivety to believe that everyone's hero really was perfect.

And the next morning at church services when she spies the golden pendant around Taylor McKessie - her supposed best friend's - neck, her heart begins to break. Not in the way that everyone expects, though. Everyone expects her to fall apart, to scream, to yell, to have a fit like a little baby, but the only thing Gabriella Montez does is lock herself in the bathroom stall at church on Christmas Day and sob as silently as she can, drowned out by a chorus of "Joy to the World" humming in the background.

---

_author's notes_: I really was going to write about six more sections to this chapter, because I was feeling that they were getting a bit thin, but since this one is so.. loaded, I assumed that it would be alright. So for a break, I didn't mention Ryan in a chapter. Honestly, he's my favorite and I have a hard time NOT writing about him. This may actually be my favorite moment of Gabriella in the whole story. Oh, and if you can't tell, I've so been watching too much tv lately.


	8. Part Eight: In the Mirror

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Eight_

_author's notes_: I'm starting work tomorrow. But I get off at three every day, so I should still have time to write. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the Christmas chapter, but I've got to go back to what's gone on with Ryan for two months.

---

_Part Eight: In the Mirror_

---

When Ryan Evans looks at himself in the mirror, he doesn't see what he used to see.

He used to see the perfect teenaged actor - perfect blonde hair and perfect ensembles and the perfect voice and the perfect family, though a little disregarded by his father.

Now all he sees is his father. His father's eyes, his father's chin. His father's bloody hands. When Ryan Evans looks in the mirror, he sees his father. Bloody cufflinks, powder on his hands. He feels the weight of the gun that he carries in his pocket everywhere these days. He feels the weight of what he now feels that he needs -

What he fears the most is that maybe it's not just for protection anymore.

Halloween. November 5th. The night before Thanksgiving. Saint Nicholas's Day.

And now, New Years Eve.

He's getting less and less sloppy. One clean shot. It's all a movie in his mind. When he walks away, he imagines the scene switching to a scene of him in confession, even though he's not a Catholic.

He sometimes wishes he was a Catholic so that he could confess. But _loyalty is rewarded with loyalty_, and confessing, even to a priest, would be disloyal to his father. His father, who has become a distinctly different figure in his mind. _Yes, sir_ and _What do you need me to do, sir?_ A boss - benevolent, but definitely four or five steps away from being an actual father. He gives his son orders and Ryan robotically puppets the motions that his father has given for him to enact. He's an actor; he plays his part perfectly.

On the outside, it's almost as if nothing is even wrong. He seems even happier than before, diving directly into scripts and music rehearsals and dancing, he works harder than ever before to keep from thinking.

Because thinking thinking thinking, he's not much more than a flunkie in his mind. _A cog in the machine_. A flunky with a gun, watching his own back all the time. Tick tock of the clock he hears gunshots in every dropped book, and he flinches at every sign of conflict.

He's scared to drink alcohol anymore - loss of control could mean loss of life. But locked in his room at night - where everything is in his control, he gives into himself. Curtains drawn, he's got coke laid out in little lines and he pulls out a straw and gives into his disillusions - trying so hard to forget the images he sees in the mirror.

Because sometimes when he looks in the mirror, there are four other people standing behind him, and none of them are breathing anymore. _Because of him._

So he takes another hit.

---

When she looks in the mirror, Taylor McKessie wishes she could see the girl that Chad Danforth was in love with. But she does not even recognize what she sees.

She's got makeup on heavy. She's wearing a necklace that was ill-gotten from Troy Bolton - of all people, the jock who she absolutely despised a year ago. She's not a virgin anymore, her grades are slipping, she's not even a part of the geeks who she used to love with all her heart anymore - she's something she never expected, and everybody knows it - she's the class slut.

Sometimes she cries for her old soul, wondering if maybe she can find it again. Those are the nights when she pulls out her cell phone and with a shaking hand dials Chad Danforth's number just to listen to him say hello and hang up. But not tonight -

"Hello?"

"Chad, can you talk now?"

"Uh, Taylor?"

"Yeah, it's me." Awkward.

"Yeah, sure. I guess. Do you need anything?" So forced, so strange to be hearing her voice again after two months of wondering -

"I need - I need to talk to you again." Hope.

"What do you mean?" _Act. Don't let her know the way your heart is beating, because her voice sounds so - so Taylor again._

"I - I miss you is all. I miss us."

Silence, and then, "Me too."

"It's just -" She pauses, afraid to say it, "It's just that I just realized that this time last year, I was miserable because I was alone, and that I hated you for being a jock and popular, but then when we found out how alike we are - you know, trying to sabotage," she laughs a little here, remembering how ridiculous the whole plan really was, "Troy and Gabriella from auditioning for that stupid show. And then I thought about how miserable I am now - and I don't think I could have been miserable for a whole year, and I realized that I wasn't. I wasn't miserable when I was with you. At the beginning."

"In the summer, you mean?" His heart is racing - she sounds so much like herself, like the intelligent girl he fell in love with. But he cannot just let her back in - not after what he's heard about her, about his best friend and the girl he had been in love with.

"Yeah, the summer." She's choking on her own tears, "I, I want that back."

"Taylor -"

"I know, I know we can't just have that again, but I want to try. I want to try again with you. And I know I changed, but I don't want to be who I am anymore. I want to be who I was, and I think.." She paused and choked, "I think I need you to help me be that girl again. Because you are the only thing that made me really happy." She pauses and then in his silence, she panics, "Oh Jesus, I'm sorry for calling you. I'm just gonna -"

"No wait!" He catches his breath, unable to make anything come past his throat, "I want to start over too. I want you to be my smart, witty, somewhat sneaky," They both laugh, "friend again."

He can hear that she's crying over the phone and he says softly, "I'll be over in a minute, okay?"

She sniffles and although her joy is uncontrollable, she says, "Okay. See you." And clicks her phone off.

She is unclasping the little golden heart necklace from around her neck, she is standing over the toilet and she drops it in. She stares at it for a moment, and then quickly flushes the toilet. As the chain circles around she turns and looks at herself in the mirror - and she starts to recognize the girl she sees.

---

When Gabriella Montez looks in the mirror - she wonders which part of herself she is looking at. The geeky math girl or the girl who loves to sing or Troy Bolton's girlfriend?

Three days after Christmas, she found in herself a new strength that she never knew she possessed. Since she moved to Albuquerque, she had always defined herself on Troy Bolton. When she wasn't with him, she didn't know quite where she fit in anymore - sure, now that they were seniors, she could talk to Sharpay anytime she wanted, especially since Zeke Baylor had softened the Ice Queen's heart, and Kelsi was always a source of such great support that Gabriella always felt like she was with her mother when Kelsi was around -

But she had always been Troy Bolton's girlfriend.

"Troy, what am I supposed to do? Pretend that I don't know? The thing about it is... that I've known, in some way or another, for a really long time. I just didn't want to admit it." She held him by the arms and lightly pushed him away, "I love you, Troy. You made me feel like I was worthwhile, you made me feel like we could beat the whole world, together. But now - I'm not sure anymore. I'm not sure of anything. So I'm going to have to let go."

And her heart had wrenched in her chest when his eyes started to water, and she'd almost given in, but her mind won over her heart for once, "And I wish that I didn't have to. But I don't even know what it was. Was it just sex? Or are you really in love with her? And if I stay, would you be in love with me? Because I don't know anymore, Troy." And she had paused, and mustered every ounce of strength within her body to say, "And if I stay, every day would break my heart just a little bit more."

And he had tried to protest, but she had stopped him, "Please don't say anything, because I won't be able to say no if you ask me. Please just, if you love me, let me go now."

And she had walked away from him, leaving behind her fallen god amongst his ashes, Hera walked away.

And she was strong.

And now when Gabriella looks in the mirror - she doesn't see the girl everyone thinks she will see, that girl whose heart was broken by a god. But she sees the girl that she knows she is. When Gabriella Montez looks in the mirror, she's not just Troy Bolton's girlfriend, she's Gabriella. And she's a singer, and an actress, and a math geek, and she loves spaghetti and fruit punch, and she doesn't drink because it makes her sick, and she listens to Britney Spears alone in her room and dances - and she's strong.

---

When Jacob Cross looks in the mirror, he sees a broken man. He looks into his own tired eyes, and wonders how much he's seen. In his mind, he can remember so little - so very little about Halloween night. But something screaming in the back of his brain tells him that there is something more than he cannot remember - because of that god damn line he'd done, was it the second or the third of the night?

Sometimes, he catches Ryan Evans's eye in the hallways at school, and the smiling boy begins to frown. They pass each other and silence enters Jacob's head and he's not quite sure of what it is about Ryan that he recognizes.

But then, he looks in the mirror and he realizes. When he looks at Ryan Evans, he sees a broken man. When he looks in the mirror, he sees another.

---

_author's notes_: uhm, wow. I love this chapter? Am I allowed to say that? I love this chapter. And I'm so proud of Taylor and Gabriella. I'm probably going to finish the next part tonight as well because I'm just sort of bumming around my house today. So expect it later on this evening. Law and Order: SVU marathon makes me happy. Reviews, please.

ps. I'm thinking of making this about twenty chapters long now. There's so much I want to include.


	9. Part Nine: New Years Eve

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Nine_

_author's notes_: two in a day. I'm on a roll. Where has Kelsi been?

ps. big freaking scary warning about this chapter. if you can't handle some.. seriously freaked up stuff, don't read it. Nothing too graphic, but it's pretty much implied. Implied so it could remain under T

---

_Part Nine: New Years Eve._

---

Ryan Evans has not made any New Years Resolutions. Of course not, because in his mind, he doesn't think he's going to see the New Year.

He knows it should go down that night the way that it always has. Notch number five on his belt. But something in the back of his throat is warning him that it won't. He's shaking a bit as he stuffs the gun into the inside pocket of his blazer. Casual, cool. Jeans, white tee shirt, blazer, fedora. Sharpay would die.

As he's throwing his overcoat on, he glances back at his living room. Sharpay is setting up for her very own New Years Eve party, and she's in the living room in a short silver cocktail dress, fussing over the placement of glasses when she looks up at him.

She looks beautiful. Ryan isn't certain why but he is tearing up. He walks slowly towards her and takes her in his arms and just stands there for a moment. Sharpay would have normally pushed him away, she would have normally called in insane, but this time she just stands there and wraps her arms around her brother.

_It's twin telepathy_, she would say.

They stand there like that for a moment, but tick tock of the clock, Ryan has an appointment to make. And as he turns and smiles at her as he leaves, it seems so very final.

---

She's pushing brown hair out of her eyes. She's falling apart.

She's been through his desk drawers and seen his stash. As she's crying she starts to laugh at herself for believing him. New Years Eve, she's looking beautiful, and she has cocaine in her handbag.

Kelsi thought she could save Jake.

She couldn't.

It wasn't as easy as she expected it to be. _You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved_, her mother would tell her - _therapist talk_, Kelsi called it. And she feels like all those nights holding him as he sweated through withdrawals and screamed things - awful things at her to make her hate him so she would leave and he could have _another fucking line_ - all those nights were wasted on him.

"Jake, we need to talk."

"Not now, honey, the ball's gonna drop in a minute and I want you to be the first one I kiss -" He pecks her on the lips. She pulls away.

"No. Now." Jacob is just a little tipsy, but then, everyone is. At the Evans house, its only students, and Sharpay has made her rounds with little martini glasses so many times that Jake has lost count. But he's on his best behavior tonight for Kelsi.

"Okay, okay," He kisses her again, "Let's just go somewhere quiet."

They duck into a side room with an ornate desk and large leather chair. Jake pulls her into him and starts to slowly kiss up the side of her neck.

She wants to give in, to forget about what she's discovered - but she can't. She can't do this anymore. She can't be his mother anymore.

"Jake, stop."

"Well, fine," The frustration is apparent in his voice, and he starts to head back out the room until he hears a clink on the desk.

She's dumped out her purse, and there are two miniature tubes of white powder - something he'd never intended her to see. His heart begins to beat in his chest faster than it ever has with the help of any drug - _oh my god_ - and he stumbles over words. Tears are forming in her eyes and he says -

"Kelsi, I -"

"Jake." She whispers, "You told me you were clean."

"I.. I. I was." He walks towards her and puts his head against her chest, crying, she pats his head gently out of habit, and she feels the sweat beads forming, "I can be-" He's saying, "I can be for you. I can try, I'll try harder, please Kelsi, please - I'll try harder."

She lightly pushes him away, "No."

"What?" He feels as though he's about to collapse.

_ohshitimsorryohshitohshitohshitohshit._

"I can't do this anymore, Jake." She's putting everything back in her purse, except for the two vials, "Take these." She kisses his forehead, "When you're clean, Jake." He slowly falls to his knees on the floor, unable to look at her.

"Are you leaving me?" The tiniest voice he's ever heard, more like a child than an eighteen year old man.

She holds back her tears and straightens the fabric on her dress, "For now."

And as he starts to sob, she covers her own mouth, and runs.

---

He's waiting in the back of an alley, going over his own plan. He's to pick up the package, smooth. Get the money. Maybe even make a joke, give the guy a sense of false assurance, and then as he's walking away, disconnect.

It's ten. He should be home in a half an hour. Sharpay will be disappointed if he's not.

Then suddenly, he feels something cold against his neck and hears the dull (_and terrifying_) click.

"Evans."

_Calm down, Ryan._

"That's me." Ryan doesn't move a muscle, calm, collected. He's played this part before.

The feeling of the gun against the back of his neck disappears and the man walks around him, "Just testing. I thought you'd be older. Wasn't expecting a..."

The man laughs.

Ryan scratches the side of his face and then wraps his finger around his belt loop, pushing back the blazer to reveal his weapon, "Yeah, a fairy, I'm sure."

The man is clearly an idiot, "Well you can see where I get the impression," _And there's the false assurance._

The man pulls out the package, Ryan counts out the bills. _An easy trade._

"You're missing some." The man says impatiently.

Ryan bites his lower lip casually, and says, "Charge me for it." _Cool, collected._

And as he's inwardly congratulating himself over his almost victory, he doesn't know what hits him. The man has the gun to his forehead and as Ryan reaches for his own, the man grabs his hand and pushes him against the wall of the alley, Ryan's head is spinning and he's terrified - he's always terrified - and god damn he really needs a fucking line - when the man breathes into his ear, hot and terrifying, "Alright, turn over," and then he forces his stomach and chest against the wall and puts his hand into Ryan's mouth so he can't scream.

And when it's all done and the man is walking away, Ryan is bleeding on the ground with the package. And he barely remembers that it's his job, but out of anger and shame he picks up the gun and he shoots until he runs out of bullets.

And then he passes out.

---

When it was finally midnight, the Evans house was filled with cheers, kisses, and champagne, provided of course, by Sharpay. Everyone was smiling and laughing and celebrating yet another year in the life of friends.

But even as Zeke kissed her, all Sharpay could worry about was where her brother might be.

And she's throwing on her overcoat by twelve fifteen because he's not there and she's worried, "Zeke, please help me look."

And as they get into his car and roll down the windows screaming his name, he sees that she's crying, and he holds her hand.

---

_author's notes_: I forgot about the Tony Awards! I'll just catch up at some point. I never keep track of these things. But here is one of the more "intense" chapters. I like the last one better because happier things happened in it, but Ryan amazes me in this one. And Kelsi. So ah, review! I start work tomorrow. Eek!


	10. Part Ten: But I am cleaning up so well

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Ten_

_author's notes_: wow. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this up. I started working this week and it's pretty much wiped me out, however fun it may be. (I work at a theatre day camp as the manager) I hope you enjoy this juicy little segment.

I'm a little emo today though, because I miss my not-quite-boyfriend, who is on a mission trip for the next five weeks.

Oh and hey, yeah. The seriously disturbed idea you had that you asked if that was the implication - yes, that's what happened.

---

_Part Ten: But I am Cleaning Up so Well._

---

His breath is catching. _Short short shor_ -

_God damn._

It's the coldest night he can remember, but then, he doesn't remember many cold nights in Albuquerque. He's not sure if he can move, he's not sure if he wants to. He lies in the alley as snow lightly falls on his face - He's breaking down in his mind, further and further than he was already broken. Maybe if he stopped holding on - he stares at the gun in his hand.

They say as you are about to die, your life flashes before your eyes, but to Ryan Evans, who knew he was about to die, the only flashes he sees are of his father's face.

His father's face after his first musical - embarrassed. His father's face after the second - trying not to be embarrassed. And slowly, his father's face faded away from each musical. His father's face the night he'd accused him of being a homosexual, His father's face the night that one seventeen year old boy discovered the gun. His father's face the night he first handed Ryan the gun - bent over and coughing - his father's face mouthing the words _Loyalty is rewarded with Loyalty_ - his father's face each time he absently gave Ryan an order, his father's face when Ryan would return home - pride.

He rolls over. He throws up.

Ryan Evans didn't make any New Years Resolutions. He didn't have to; he was certain he wasn't going to live to see the next year.

And so, broken, Ryan Evans pulls the gun in his hand up to his own head and says out loud, envisioning his father's face through his own tears and the puke rising up through his own throat, the blood spattered around his ankles, his pants still around his knees, he writes his mental suicide note - "Dear Father. Fuck you. Loyalty," He chokes a laugh, delusional, "Loyalty is rewarded with shit."

And he pulls the trigger.

---

Troy Bolton realizes that she's better off without him. From across the party, he can see her smiling - brighter than anyone else in the room.

Its half past midnight and he can't help but think that it was only a year ago that he first met her - only in a year had she completely changed his world, and now she was gone.

She's dancing now - not with anyone but herself, but still beautiful. From across the room he can see Taylor and Chad talking quietly - he feels a lump boiling up in his stomach - _how could he?_ He begins to feel like maybe if he had stayed himself - Troy Bolton, the basketball star who never sang but in the shower, then maybe she would have been happy and this lumpy feeling in his heart would not be there.

He frowns - _no, that isn't right_. If he had never met Gabriella, if the DJ had never pulled them out of the crowd - two complete strangers, how could he have known they would fall in love? - If none of it had happened, he would still be Zeus, but he would be wearing a mask, strong on the outside but screaming underneath.

Smirk. _But then_, he thinks as he looks at Gabriella smiling from across the room, _we're all a little bit like that._

---

Jake is running into walls in his mind. The music from the party is pounding so loud, the rhythm is pumping with the beat of his heart. He feels the lights dimming around him and all he can see is Kelsi - Kelsi holding onto Taylor McKessie's hand and asking for a ride home.

All he can see is Kelsi taking the easy way out - running away from him, just like everyone else in his life. All he can see is the rest of the room staring him down - they all know - _THEY ALL KNOW._

His head is spinning. He can't go home - He can't stay here. He can't go to Kelsi's - he can't run away. Where would he go?

He finds himself alone in the bathroom.

_Just one fucking more line._

---

Sharpay is shaking in his arms, and all Zeke can do is to smooth her hair gently down - tonight was supposed to be her shining night. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, and now? Now he's screaming in his head to make it perfect for her._ Damn_ -

And Ryan?

Ryan's shaking too. He's shaking in the back seat, blood everywhere and holding a gun. Zeke wonders to himself if he should even ask. They're parked in front of the Evans house, and they don't know how to enter - how they could even begin to explain the way they had found Ryan.

They had been driving everywhere they could think, screaming his name, sometimes people would ask them who they were looking for and they'd describe him and they'd say they'd keep a lookout, and they'd give them Zeke's number - that's how they found him. Someone had found him in an alley, bleeding. There was a gun next to him and he was crying on the floor repetitively pulling the trigger and whispering about how he'd wasted all the bullets on the other man - _what other man?_

The alley had been devoid of anyone but Ryan, a crumpled heap of a broken boy with a broken belt buckle and an empty gun.

The woman had called Zeke and Sharpay had cried - joy, relief, fear - she'd cried so hard all the way to the remote alley on the outskirts of town and she'd cried as she held her twin brother in her arms and kissed him on the forehead and she'd cried as they made promises to protect each other - promises Zeke wondered if they could keep.

The woman, stocky, kind, and obviously a vigilante had pulled Zeke aside by the arm and questioned where Ryan had said he'd been going, Zeke had told her he didn't know, she questioned everything, his mental health, his drug use, everything - Zeke didn't know. He didn't know anything.

And now, with him there in the car, all he could think about was Ryan whispering that he'd wasted all the bullets on the other guy, and all he could wonder was if Sharpay realized who the last bullet was meant for.

And all Ryan could worry was that if the clean up man, whom he'd never met before, would ever be able to find the body in the dumpster he'd stashed it in.

---

_author's notes_: sorry so short. sorry it took so long. I was going to let you believe that Ryan had killed himself until the next chapter, but I figured that was torture enough.

I really have been working my little petutie off so chapters may come slower than usual, but I'll try not to take a week next time. Actually, I plan on working on eleven today.

Hope you guys didn't forget about me!


	11. Part Eleven: No Escape from Reality

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Eleven_

_author's notes_: I'm going to try to update in a more timely fashion, seeing how it took me a week between parts nine and ten. It's because I don't have oodles of time on my hands anymore, what with work and everything.

The next few chapters are the main point of the storyline, and I think they're going to break my heart.

---

_Part Eleven: Caught in a Landslide, No escape from Reality._

---

Two weeks back into school, and everything has changed. Two of the most known couples have broken up, and everyone knows Taylor McKessie for who she truly is. She's holding hands with Chad again, but they both claim that they're not back together... yet.

Gabriella Montez is all smiles, even though everyone can see her heart breaking on her sleeve. She walks through the hallway, and for once since she started at East High School, she is alone. Or with just her girlfriends. She and Taylor McKessie have long since fallen out of friendship, and Sharpay Evans has become her replacement.

Sharpay and Zeke are closer than ever - everyone can see it on their faces. They're wearing their hearts on their sleeves too, but it's okay. They'll hold each other's hands so they don't fall and break.

Everyone knows about Kelsi and Jake. Kelsi's falling apart, but Jake seems happy. He seems like he doesn't have a care in the world. At least, that's what he seems like. Underneath, he's crashing further than anyone would have ever expected, and he's falling apart.

He's breaking, and she's not there to catch him. But nobody knows that at all.

---

Ryan can no longer look his father in the eye, and he's not certain if his father has even tried. Had he known - had he known what had happened that night.

Ryan had reported that everything had gone according to plan - but his one deviation of hiding the body. He'd been scolded - hit. How could he leave his prints on the body? What a _foolish boy_ he'd been.

When his father's hand had struck his face, Ryan could only imagine what it would be like to hold the weight of the gun in his hand again and hold it against his father's head the way that the man had held it against his - _how would his father feel then?_ When his life was out of his own hands, his body out of his own hands - how could he tell his father?

Shame.

How could he admit to his father that he'd lost so much? Ryan felt in his heart that he could not bear to imagine the way his father's face would contort itself - would he be upset? angry? ashamed? scared? Ryan didn't know, nor did he care to find out.

Whenever he looks at Sharpay, all Ryan sees is pity and it makes him want to scream. She knows, and he knows that she knows. He won't tell her because she already knows and he doesn't want to suffer her the gory details - the primal way the man had growled in his ear while he slammed his face against the brick wall, the way Ryan had tried to scream but couldn't find his voice wedged between a stranger's and his own sins - and he could never tell her that the last bullet he had intended for himself. He could never say -

He found God in the missing bullet.

Maybe not the God of his father, sin without remorse - definitely not the God that his mother believed in, no sin with more remorse than ever - and not the God that Sharpay believed in, fame.

Ryan's God was different than all of theirs - A god that gave him a second chance -

He swigs down another bottle of vodka, and then he begins to see that he is his own God.

And there is comfort in that.

---

She's something of a mystery to him - the way that she changes so quickly, a chameleon. Maybe that's why he doesn't trust her anymore. He's seen her many colors, but he's never given up on loving the ones he once loved.

And so there they are, sitting in the park, alone at night, just talking -

Just talking and talking and talking.

He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to her - she was so damn smart, and always had the right advice for any situation. She always knew what to say to get his goat or to make him want to kiss her so hard he'd never forget what she tasted like - she always knew everything.

And on this night, after two and a half months without her - he was beginning to wonder how he ever let her go to begin with.

"You know, Chad," She's saying to him, honest and sincere, "I really don't know what happened to me. I wanted so badly to be the kind of girl -" She stops and laughs, "Never mind."

"No," He wants to hear more, "I want to know."

"I wanted to be the kind of girl that you liked before - and I forgot who I was." She's looking down at her feet in the grass and pulling her scarf around her neck tightly.

Chad smiles wryly, "It's funny that I liked you so much more before then - when you were so nerdy and smart and we had fun doing things like this - coming to the park in the middle of the night just to talk-"

She jumps up, excited, "Me too. I miss this."

She is so close he can feel her, the Taylor he loved, "I miss us," He's saying and when she begins to mouth the words, "Me too" he presses his lips to hers.

When they pull apart she blushes and they both look back to the stars for a moment of brief awkwardness before Chad looks over at Taylor, "Do you want to start over?"

And she nods. And he kisses her again.

---

Sharpay Evans has never been the mothering type - she has always been out for her own good and for nobody else's.

She's changed a lot over the past year.

She feels as though she's losing her brother - and she can't possibly know to what. She hears him at night, crying, sometimes screaming out for something that she can't possibly give him. She hears him sometimes raise his voice at their father, but she also hears the loud bang against the wall when his father knocks him into it right afterwards and the quick apology _I apologize, sir, that was disrespectful of me_ that follows - she hears everything but knows nothing.

But tonight - tonight she cannot stand it much longer, he's screaming for the second time, loud, rough, and pained, and she creaks open the door the connects their rooms and whispers his name into the dark, "Ryan -"

Nothing. She hears a bang against the bathroom door and runs to it, "Ryan!"

And what she sees laid out across the counter causes her to fall back against the wall herself to stay standing - a gun, a bag of cocaine, more than she's ever seen at any party, a straw, a knife, and two or three bottles of vodka. She looks into her brother's eyes and it's like he can't even see her, he's shaking so badly and he's looking right through her when he mouths her name, laughing, "Oh hey Shar- Is it time for rehearsals?" He hiccups and falls against the countertop, "Because I don't think I'm feeling so good-"

"Oh shit, Ryan," tears are welling up in her eyes, "Oh shit oh shit oh shit -" She's quickly cleaning things up, throwing things away, and he falls against the floor laughing.

She picks up the bag of cocaine and shudders, "What is this, Ryan? When did you start this?"

He's laughing and crying at the same time as he stands up and pushes her up against the wall, his nose almost touching hers, "You want some? It's good shit - I got it from Jake Cross.."

She's angry, reeling against nothing as she pushes him off of her and opens the toilet and empties the bag and he starts to scream, "What the fuck did you do that for?"

She shakes her head and picks up the first liquor bottle and starts to empty it in the same way before he screams, "Stupid bitch!"

And he throws her against the wall into the bathtub, she's crying and when she looks up at him he's shaking and her face is bleeding, "Oh my god, oh shit, Oh Sharpay -"

She looks at him, and it's all the pity he can handle when she says quietly, "What happened to you, Ryan?"

He's shaking as she stands up and he falls against the wall on the floor, curling his legs into his arms as she pours out the rest of the liquor and flushes the toilet - and then she rests her hand on the gun.

"I never wanted you to see that -" he's crying and looking up at her, blue eyes and tears that were never meant to happen, "I never wanted you to see me like this - I never.."

She picks up the gun and holds it in her hands as she sits down in front of him, the weight of it in her hands feels strange, unreal, and terrifying, "Ryan," she places her empty hand on his shoulder, "It's okay, but please-" She's about to cry now, "Please, let me help you. Because - I need you, you know," and she sniffles a bit and wipes her eyes, "And not just for onstage purposes. I love you a little bit too."

His eyes are still focused on the gun, but she lightly taps his chin up to her face and he falls into her shoulder and says into her ear, "I love you too," And when he pulls away from her, "I never wanted you to know, but there's a lot I need to tell you."

And he begins to tell his story, from the night he first discovered the blood on their father's cufflinks to the night that the stranger had forced himself into Ryan's own body for collateral, and he told her about the alcohol and the drugs and the shame and the dirty money and the whole time he told her, she held him tighter and tighter until he felt surrounded by her - and he reminded himself that she was why he started to begin with.

To save her. And suddenly, Ryan Evans let go, and he forgot about the drugs and alcohol she had flushed down the toilet and he forgot about his father's shame and he held onto his sister, for they shared the same God.

---

_author's notes_: uhm, I love this chapter, okay? Well, the parts about Ryan mostly, but I had always planned to put Chad and Taylor back together, because I do love them together. One of the few cannon couples I support (obviously the other is Zeke and Sharpay). So the poop's about to hit the fan, so to speak. The next chapter should be up incredibly shortly, probably tonight or tomorrow, but it should also be very short.

And then the one following that is a doozy, and I'd be on the lookout for it. Hopefully the promise of the climax is enough for you to forgive me for taking a week to write one chapter. I love you, kids! Reviews!

Ps. I so wasn't joking when I warned you guys about character death. Just so you know. That little incident with Ryan was not it.


	12. Part Twelve: The Jungle

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Twelve_

author's notes: Oh my gosh, I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. Short chapter obviously, but that was on purpose. I wrote these author's notes after I wrote it, btw. It took a couple of days to post because I wanted to really perfect it, since it is the title chapter. So uhm, absolutely. Enjoy this. I hope you find it easy enough to understand the frantic nature of it all.

---

_Part Twelve: The Jungle._

---

_East High School is The Jungle_, says Jacob Cross.

_Why's that?_ Kelsi used to ask him, but not anymore. Now whenever he affirms his long-held belief there is no one to disagree - no one to remind him that everyone goes home at night and has hopes and fears and dreams - no one to tell him otherwise.

_Because everyone wakes up every day with one person in their minds - themselves._

Sunrise over pink Albuquerque skies, he's breaking after eighteen years.

And he's beginning to see he's right. The scenes he plays are slowly echoing back and forth in his head and the higher he gets the clearer the world becomes - but with more night sweats and fever breaks and no gentle hands to wipe his brow - where could little Jacob Cross turn?

_The Jungle Beat._

Every day, walking through the hallways he no longer hears the sounds of people's voices, opinions, dreams, but the screams of monkeys, the roars of frightened lions in battle, the hissing of snakes as he walks by the girls' room. He closes his eyes tightly, opens them again. The voices return and phrases like _call me!_ and _see you!_ and _oh snap!_ reverberate in his brain -

_Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang._

Are they really any better than the cries of screaming monkeys?

Sharpay Evans is a lioness in heat, and Zeke is her mate - Jake sees that all too clearly. Zeke has given up trying to save him for his own sexual wants and desires, carrying her books and kissing her lightly as a ploy to win her over, _it's laughable_, Jake thinks to himself, to see her leading on her little drummer boy - _what a bitch._

The fire is growing - higher and higher - and he's laughing because they cannot see -

They cannot see.

And Chad - _hah_, Chad is still second best as ever. Following quietly in the footsteps of Troy Bolton, Jake sees the boy for what he really is - a pathetic sidekick with no hope of ever being equal to his best friend. Judgmental to a fault, unwilling to let anything, any dirty person besmirch his reputation - a damn parrot mouthing off everything he's told to say - That's all that's left of the boy who used to be his friend.

The rhythm of the drums is pounding in his brain - he can't hear, he can't feel, he can barely see -

But then there's Ryan Evans - damn asshole. The only one who understands. Eye lock. Emotion. One moment - maybe? Grasping at straws and falling through the fjord, Jacob Cross sees himself in Ryan Evans. Broken.

He remembers that night - not so clearly, but enough to know he knows something Ryan doesn't realize. He remembers Ryan wiping blood from his nose - blood from his cuffs, blood from his brow - he remembers the blood so much - as though he were swimming in it that night with that mysterious blonde boy - had they been?

The image of Ryan Evans on Halloween blurs in with images of savages around a fire - Ryan Evans makes the sacrificial killing to Jacob's favorite god.

Jacob's head is spinning when he thinks of Ryan Evans and the sacrifice - _ha fucking ha_ - and with a gun in his own hands, Jacob Cross doesn't know whether or not he could please the gods more than Ryan Evans - but he's damn sure he could try.

Blood red sunsets over Albuquerque in January - blood to be spilt in the city.

_One more fucking line. Please, Kelsi, one more?_

No answer.


	13. Part Thirteen: Bang, Bang, You're Dead

**The Jungle**

By Song Birdy

_Part Thirteen_

_author's notes_: ahh. I can't handle how excited I am about writing this chapter. In truth, I only came up with the concept around chapter four, but I've definitely been itching to write it since then... and therefore, ee! Okay, so without further ado, part the thirteenth.

ps. six gabaljillion points to everyone who knows what the title is and why it's relevant.

---

_Part Thirteen: Bang, Bang, You're Dead._

---

Imagine a scene so strange that you'd never believe it actually happened. Imagine a ruin so dark that the savage eyes of the perpetrators averted themselves - imagine East High School.

A fog of uncertainty hangs over the hallways where so much joy and growing and memories have taken place - a fog of blood and wisdom and growing up too damn fast.

_Bang bang, you're dead._

---

Imagine it the morning it happened -

"Hey Shar!" Zeke Baylor is calling from his car, waving down his beautiful girlfriend and running towards her. She smiles, so simply, so pure that you would almost believe that she wasn't such a cold hearted snake - and he kisses her, so much raw and untouched love and -

"Hey babe," She's whispering and he's laughing and taking her books from her hands as he slips his fingers through hers and they walk into the building together. He leans down and kisses her temple lightly and she giggles - so perfect.

It's funny how they fell in love - how did that happen? The diva and the basketball player? That definitely wasn't right - she was meant to end up with someone better than him, more refined - he was meant for a cheerleader or a varsity volleyball player. But maybe it was just Sharpay and Zeke - they defied those stereotypes that they themselves had long upheld for each other. Maybe that's what kept them going -

Because they'd already realized that they were meant to be together as themselves and not as what everyone else expected them to be.

But nobody would see that looking at them - they'd just see Sharpay and Zeke, a social fluke they'd grown accustomed to and even started to find adorable. Now that Troy and Gabriella were broken up they were a shoe in for cutest couple in the yearbook and everyone seemed to agree, even Zeke, who was usually incomparably shy about his relationships.

They smile at each other as they part for class, "See you at lunch" she mouths into his kiss and they laugh and hug - they were the sweetest mistake.

---

Imagine a ruin so foreboding you couldn't bear to see high school sweethearts falling to pieces - blood, sweat, tears, promises, rings - god, they hope they make it - screaming and running and -

_Bang bang._

_Shit._

---

Imagine first period.

Troy Bolton is writing a note. Something he usually accounts for middle school girls - maybe even freshmen with little crushes on the star basketball player - but he has no idea how to talk to Gabriella without it -

_Dear Gabi_, he's writing. _Dear Gabi, I love you. Dear Gabi, I'm sorry. Dear Gabi, please come back to me - Dear Gabi, save me._

But he's stopped at _Dear Gabi._

He runs a hand through his flawless hair and glances over her way, for a split second, she looks up and catches his eye - and he feels it again - the feeling he got the first time he sang with her on the stage at New Years and breaking free and the night they'd finally kissed - and _I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places_ and his heart begins to break when he writes -

_Dear Gabi,_

_I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me -_

He frowns.

_And I know you probably won't._

She's tossing her hair absently behind her shoulder and he's falling even more in love with what he once took for granted and can no longer have. He begins to frantically write.

_But I also know that I made a huge mistake. I took you for granted and I betrayed you, after everything you did for me. You're the only person who I've ever really loved, Gabi. Please, forgive me. I'm not asking you to take me back - I'm not even asking you to be my friend again if you don't want to. But, at the end of the day I want you to remember me and think of all the good we had and not how badly it ended. Gabi, I will always love you._

He doesn't sign it. Quickly, he folds it in half - hamburger style and slips it to her desk next to him. As she's reading it, he cannot even look at her - but he hears her beautiful breath catch and she quickly pulls out another piece of paper and scrawls something and pushes it to his desk without even folding it -

_Meet me on the roof. Lunch._

And his heart beats faster than it has in months.

---

Imagine a cafeteria so haunting that you can never imagine what you missed in those dreadful hours. Imagine your happiness failing to tragedy - Imagine East High School.

Imagine kindergarten and how you'd never imagined you'd end up like this - crawling to save her life - damn it because you'd rather die and let her live than anything in the world. You'd already failed her once and you won't fail her again.

Imagine the fear you're feeling when you hear the gunshots.

---

Imagine second period.

Kelsi Neilson is studious, trying so hard to forget the present state of her life. Jake won't return her calls - he won't even acknowledge her in the hallway or with friends - he looks away.

Her heart is breaking. She keeps the little bracelet that he gave her for Christmas around her wrist and imagines he's still around at night - but she knows that she'll soon be letting go and she'll soon forget about the cocaine and the drinking and she'll bury herself in music and studies and underground movies and coffee.

Her cell phone vibrates in her jacket pocket, and after checking to make sure the teacher is busy playing solitaire she flips it open under her desk and reads -

_New Text Message!_

_From:_

_Jake_

She clicks on it.

_Don't go to school today, please._

She flips her phone shut and whispers, "That was weird."

Taylor McKessie leans over and asks, "What?"

"Jake just texted me."

The other girl smiles, unaware, "What's so weird about that?"

Kelsi just shakes it off, "It's just that he's not speaking to me lately."

---

Imagine the fear you feel the weight of a gun in your hand - imagine growing used to it. Imagine becoming accustomed the sound of gunfire, to the feeling of your father's fists against your chest for in sub ordinance to your family, to the feeling of worthlessness that you feel when you've become a pawn.

Imagine the fear you feel when you've realized the entire game has been changed and a new player is changing all the rules.

Imagine checkmate. Your king is in danger.

---

Chad Danforth is laughing with Taylor McKessie. _That asshole's back to using her again, isn't he?_

Zeke Baylor has his arm thrown around his girlfriend, Sharpay. Her brother, Ryan - dear, sweet, murderous Ryan - is sitting next to them, awkwardly laughing about something or another - not that it matters what - and nibbling on an apple. Kelsi is there, she's smiling with them -

And it's breaking Jake up to feel the weight of the gun hidden inside his breast pocket and look at her face.

But then when he looks at her again, it distorts, her teeth are becoming more and more pointed and she's laughing with them - slowly they turn from human beings to monkeys, hyenas, cheetahs, snakes - and his head is pounding

_bang bang bang bang._

The hissing snake is laughing at him, and he can't find Kelsi's face - _where is she? Where the hell is she?_

"KELSI!" He doesn't even realize that he's screaming when he pulls the gun out - and he doesn't hear Sharpay scream and he doesn't hear Ryan say "Oh shit" and he doesn't see the look of terror on sweet Kelsi's face when he fires the gun into the air -

---

Troy sneaks up onto the roof to find Gabriella. She's smiling as she pats the bench next to her and he sits down.

"Hey." He says awkwardly.

"Hey." She blushes and looks at her hands but then looks up and says, "I miss you."

"Me too."

Silence. And then out of nowhere, the gods bless Zeus again - Gabriella Montez grabs him by the neck and pulls him into a quick kiss -

"But there's one condition -" She's saying, and he laughs - sheer joy, "No looking at any other girl, ever," She play hits him and sternly looks him in the eye, "EVER again."

And when he kisses her, any doubt in her mind falls away, because it's like kindergarten again, and the purity of his kiss and emotions are flowing through her like a quick bath in a stream and she falls in love -

But for the screaming from below. They look down and see the police cars circling the school and then they hear the second gunshot.

"Sh!" Troy says while Gabriella begins mouthing her fears, and he takes her deep within the greenhouse and they crouch together - he holds her tightly and she begins to pray under her breath.

And even though Troy Bolton has never found the need to believe in God, he begins to pray with her.

---

Imagine an unexpected hero. Imagine the silence in the cafeteria when Ryan Evans stands up and walks towards Jacob Cross. The mirror image of a broken boy is astonishing in Ryan's mind but the gun is still aimed at his chest and Jacob is shaking so hard and Ryan is almost whispering -

"Come on, put it down. You don't want to do anything stupid -"

_Hold your hands out, don't panic. Don't panic_. Ryan feels the emptiness of his unarmed state and his breath is faltering -

Jacob Cross is laughing now. "Welcome to the jungle, faggot." He's saying, walking and pushing the gun against Ryan's forehead - so familiar, Ryan begins to cower, cry. He feels the pain rushing back between his stomach and his heart and he can only think of his sister and how he wanted to save her so very badly - imagine Sharpay Evans screaming and running at a crazed boy with a gun -

Imagine Sharpay Evans stopping as quickly as she started and falling to the floor in a pool of blood.

Imagine Zeke Baylor running - Imagine Chad Danforth gripping his fork and trying to think of a plan to save Taylor -

Imagine Ryan Evans collapsing - Imagine him breaking completely.

And the laughter - _oh, the laughter_ - from Jacob Cross. "I never realized - But I get it now, Ryan. I get it. You're not a faggot are you?" He's circling him now, the predator stalks its prey, "You're in love with your sister," He kicks him, hard in the side, "You little pervert."

"Hey!" Chad is yelling from across the room and getting up and running, and the gunshot that grazes right past him knocks him over in fear -

Jacob is laughing even harder, hysterically, "I want you all to know something about Ryan Evans," he shoots the gun into the air, "Are you listening to me?" He laughs, "Good. Ryan Evans - he's much worse than me - he's a murderer. He kills people for drugs, for money, for anything -"

"Shut up." Someone is saying.

"What's that?" Jacob is smiling, his teeth are becoming pointed and his eyes are glassy, as though he's not even here -

"Shut up, Jake." It's Kelsi, "Shut up."

"No," Anger, "You shut up, Kelsi!" He runs at her, leaving Ryan on the floor, and holds the gun to her face and she starts to cry, "You filthy bitch. You said you'd be there for me," He's growling into her face and she can see in his eyes that he must be high - he must be, this can't be him - "You lied." And he spits in her face and as his hand smacks across her face, she falls to the floor.

And suddenly, "Oh my God. Oh shit. Oh -" He looks around at the scene before him and the faces begin to change. He sees Kelsi's eyes - the eyes of the girl that held him through the night and wiped his brow and kissed his eyes closed and took care of him - he sees Sharpay Evans lying on the floor, barely breathing with a gunshot wound in her shoulder as Zeke Baylor cries over her and is whispering that she is going to be okay when in reality he doesn't know - how could he? And he sees Ryan Evans staring at him in wonder -

"Jake," a soft voice, a friend's voice, "Jake put down the gun." It's Chad Danforth, the one who could never forgive him, "Let these people go, Jake. You don't even know them -"

Jake is backing into a corner, he's terrified, he's screaming in his head and all he can see is Kelsi's face - disgust. And then the disgust begins to grow from her mouth, taking over everyone and Chad Danforth is walking towards him with this horrible look of pity on his face -

_Don't you dare pity me._

And that's when Ryan Evans grabbed Jacob Cross from behind and started to try to wrestle the gun away from him while everyone else stared in shock.

He's wrestling him, and the world seems to stop for Jake - white noise fills his head and all he can see is Kelsi and she's screaming and he's crying and nobody knows the things that he's seen -

_Bang bang. You're dead._

The gun falls out of Jacob's hand as his dead body falls to the floor, the wound across his head is too gruesome for the students of East High School to handle, and they're screaming and crying and Ryan Evans lays the body down and stands back - in the past year he has never seen something so terrifying as suicide. The boy had held the gun to his head as Ryan was wrestling him and screamed and there had been a terrible silence before the body seemed to fall into Ryan's arms.

He's coated with blood, not for the first time - but for the first time not by his own hands. As he steps away he turns and throws up on the ground next to him and collapses -

_Sharpay._

She is lying on the floor, breathing heavily and whispering things to Zeke, who's holding her hand and crying -

"There's somebody down!" a voice amid sirens - Ryan hadn't even noticed that the police had arrived. Instinctively, he flinches for his pocket to hide the nonexistent weapon and then relaxes and runs to sit at his sister's side.

He holds her other hand and looks up at Zeke, whose eyes are lying but says, "She'll be okay - She's gonna be okay - She's gotta be okay."

And Ryan starts to repeat it with him, a new tribal chant of hope: _She's going to be okay._

Kelsi Neilson quickly opens her phone - must call mother. But when she opens it she covers her mouth.

_New Text Message!_

_from_

_Jake_

Her hands are shaking when she opens it and it reads:

_I told you not to come to school today._

And she tries to run, but a strong body catches her and is holding her and saying, "Honey, it's going to be alright," in a strange voice that reminds her of her grandfather or a minister, so she buries her head into the chest of the stranger - and she cries.

She doesn't even realize that she's dropped her phone as they carry her shaking body away from the building.

---

Imagine a jungle so dark that you can barely see where you're going. The trees are covering the evil eyes of the snake and the tigress that are all ready and willing to attack - you're blinded as you walk through.

Imagine Jacob Cross - barefoot and crying in the jungle. He's a broken boy - nothing more than a boy with a gun in his hand. The jungle is fading from his eyes and he's fading with it - screaming with all of his might for help, for drugs, for a look from his mother, for ANYTHING - the animals all turn their head from him and change back into the students they used to be.

Slowly, slowly, as the jungle fades away, so does little Jacob Cross.

---

_author's notes_: holy shit! I can't believe I wrote it. I've been itching for it for days, you just don't know. Alright. I told you, the shit hit the fan. Reviews!


	14. Part Fourteen: Heroism

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Fourteen_

_author's notes_: first apologies for taking forever. Work and.. well, life pretty much were consuming my time. I've been having a very dangerous summer. If you know me, then you'll know that I basically have the most active social life of anyone. Seriously, I do too much stuff. Oh hey, a lot less swearing in this chapter. But it's a lot shorter than the others. Mostly because I just want to get to the funeral.

---

_Part Fourteen: Heroism._

---

Its funny how the image of a person can change entirely the moment they do something heroic - Ryan Evans is living proof of this phenomenon.

_Ryan Evans, 18, is reported to have wrestled with the shooter, Jacob Cross, 18, until the shooter committed suicide. Ryan Evans is -_

The entire country stands in wait to hear what Ryan Evans has to say - _why did he do it? was he scared? how did it change his life? _But Ryan Evans was silent - silently holding his sister's hand in the hospital and praying more than he ever had before _- their God would hear him_, he kept telling himself, _He has to._

He finds himself pacing back and forth at night, never able to sleep for the image of his sister falling to the ground haunting his dreams - just the way so many men he'd seen before had fallen, the strongest, most beautiful influence in his life had collapsed and fallen to the ground. He'd been terrified, and he didn't remember much of the rest, but the next gunshot.

Originally, he had believed that Jake had been aiming for him and missed - but from behind he could not see the blood dripping from the boy's gunshot wound to the head -

He'll never forget the moment he realized he was holding the boy's limp body - it was like every moment he'd had in the past year fell into his arms with Jacob Cross - every line, every gunshot, every bottle of vodka suddenly became heavier than ever before as he held Jacob Cross's body up for the world to see for a split second.

And then he screamed - he remembered screaming and Chad Danforth's face and the feeling of complete hopelessness that had settled in and become a friend to his life suddenly became entirely unbearable -

And for a split second, he was jealous of Jacob Cross.

_Some hero._

---

In Taylor McKessie's eyes, Chad Danforth is a true hero - truthful, forgiving, strong. He tries so hard to save her - he tried so hard to save Jacob Cross.

She remembers.

Night after night of Chad's increasing anger - drugs and more drugs and drugs that he couldn't stand infecting his friend's body - controlling what he said and what he did and where he went - Chad couldn't stand it anymore.

Tick tock of the clock, time went by and they weren't friends anymore - and Jake became something Chad couldn't even recognize. Chad was always the same - always the royal advisor to Troy Bolton, never quite good enough to be top dog himself. Taylor had fallen for that image - the sidekick. She'd believed that maybe Chad Danforth wasn't enough, maybe to be truly happy you had to have Zeus, but now she was beginning to realize -

_There was no such thing anymore._

---

Zeke Baylor is a wreck. That's what Troy Bolton is telling his father.

"I'm worried about him, Dad." He's flipping his spaghetti over and over on his plate without eating any at all. His life seems to flip straight back to picture perfect - his mother and father on either end of the large oak table and his girlfriend sitting across from him, enjoying dinner as a family on a Thursday night, "Even though they say Sharpay is going to walk and everything, Zeke... he's not with it anymore."

"He hasn't made a free throw since." Coach Bolton says as he takes a bite of his meal. His voice is painted with worry and his brow wrinkles as he glances up at his son.

It was funny how everyone accepted Coach Bolton's offer of basketball as a metaphor for life - basketball was life to him and his observation of Zeke's difficulties meant that he'd noticed that something was wrong - that Zeke Baylor would never be the same again.

---

Kelsi Neilson is in charge of the memorial service. There's a table with a picture of Jacob Cross on it surrounded by flowers. His basketball jersey is laid out in front of him, even though he had long quit the team. There's memory book for students to write notes to him - notes of encouragement, memories, anything - notes that Kelsi Neilson knew her boyfriend would never read.

Directly across from that table is another table - less personal. On it are pamphlets of all kinds - _Dealing With Grief, School Violence, What to Do if Your Friend is on Drugs, How to Promote Peace in Schools_ - any sort of pamphlet that Kelsi picks up to read she ends up using as a bookmark.

She pours over old love letters, looking for some kind of sign - some sign that Jake might snap, but there isn't one. He seemed perfectly normal up until he got into the drugs, and even then, he'd been a fairly happy individual, aside from his strained relationship with his parents.

Kelsi Neilson busies herself planning the memorial assembly. As her hands and mouth are moving then she doesn't stop to think - to think what could have caused it, what could have happened.

His funeral is on Sunday, and she's scared to even go.

---

_author's notes_: so sorry this took so long. Like I said, I've been working like a maniac for the past three weeks, FULL TIME. But I'm off now. It was only a three week gig, so I'm back to the world of the unemployed.


	15. Part Fifteen: Funeral for a Friend

**The Jungle**

by Song Birdy

_Part Fifteen_

_author's notes_: I've just returned home from Arkansas, and on the fourteen hour drive home, I got a good bit of inspiration for this chapter. I'm forewarning you that Part Sixteen will probably be the last part. This one though, I adore. I love the parts with Ryan. Oh hey, play "Come Downstairs and Say Hello" when you read the part about Ryan and his father, and you'll so understand my inspiration.

---

_Part Fifteen: Funeral for a Friend_

---

It's raining on the day of Jacob Cross's funeral.

His mother is drinking in the morning, his father is pacing in the entryway of their home - a broken family long before their son's suicide, and they stand to stare down their own mistakes.

She's crying in her funeral clothes when she whispers to her husband, "What did we do wrong?"

And Mr. Cross, who is staring out the window as the rain falls says, "I think.. we just didn't notice that anything was wrong."

"No," Mrs. Cross whispers, her voice trembling, "We didn't notice anything at all."

---

In his mind, Ryan Evans is the protagonist of his own story, and he's not quite sure if his father is the antagonist or not anymore. So many new factors contributed to his actions, and he was beginning to see that it was never black and white to begin with -

His hands are shaking as he knocks on the door to his father's study.

"Come in." calls his father's cool and calm voice, always under control.

As he steps into the sunlit study, where so many assignments have been handed to him in the past few months, Ryan's heart begins to pound in his chest, louder than ever before -

"I have -" He pauses, chokes, he's frightened -

"What is it, boy? Spit it out." His father is pouring over papers, "I haven't got all day."

Ryan Evans, in his black funeral suit feels like he is about to throw up - _no no no no, hold it in, you have to do this, you have to let go _-

There is a pile of acceptance letters on his bed upstairs - to top theatre schools, to every conservatory he could have auditioned for - there is a pile of scholarship letters, letters that say that he can leave all of this behind and become who he always said he would be, do all the things he always said he would do.

His voice is shaking when he says, "I have to tell you - I'm not doing it anymore."

His father peers up at him over his glasses and raises an eyebrow, "Ryan -" such a child, "You have been loyal to your family thus far - you will remain loyal to your family."

He swallows his fears and opens his jacket pocket, slowly setting three items on the table - a bag of cocaine, a bottle of whiskey, and the gun.

"I will always be loyal to this family," He says, disconnected from his own brain - this couldn't be him saying these words, he would never have the courage - "But not the way you are, sir. I'm not you. And I refuse to become you. I'm not a killer, and I'm not a hero either. I don't know what I am - but it's not this. So thank you - not for making me become you, not for anything but showing me what I don't want to be - you."

Sharpay, outside the door, used her one functional arm to cover her mouth when a little scream escaped her mouth as she heard Ryan's body slam against the wall and his let out little cries of pain for the next few minutes - the screaming that would forever change her image of her father -

The silence that reigned over the scene as she stood in the open door and her father caught sight of his only daughter's look of disdain as she ran to her brother - the silence holds so many unanswered questions.

Crouching in a black dress and heels, she wiped the side of her brother's face and whispered, "Are you okay?"

Ryan let out a little tired smirk, "I will be."

And she pulled him out of their father's study for the last time - and her eyes could murder her father's soul as she turned and looked at him -

And a forty seven year old man's heart slowly broke.

Outside, she awkwardly straightens her brother's suit and tie, and then looks him up in the eye - something soft in her that only he ever sees is shining through her eyes, "What did he say?" She half- whispers.

"That I'm not a man," Ryan answers gruffly, "Not his son."

She bites her lips into her mouth and says, "But you are a man, Ryan, more than he can ever be. You know where?" Her spare hand slips over his heart, "Where it really matters."

The tears that well up in Ryan's eyes are sincere - and he almost tells them to stop, that Evans men don't cry - but he lets them fall, and pulls his sister to him, kisses her forehead lightly -

And just like a miracle - the rain begins to let up.

---

Sometimes, you make a meal and then you don't want to eat it anymore - it's perfect, each step you've planned is in tune with the next - each dish following the other in perfect harmony -

Kelsi Neilson doesn't attend Jacob Cross's funeral services.

She watches from the side of the cemetery - flowers and pretty music and everything she'd decided on with Jacob's mother -

And she cannot stand to be there - she cannot stand to be the one who tipped Jake over the edge.

Sometimes when she looks in the mirror - that's all she sees: the girl who broke his heart and drove him mad. She should have been able to see better, to see what she would have done for him, maybe she could have -

No, she could not have done anything.

_And_, she thinks, _that's the part that hurts the worst._

---

Chad Danforth gave the eulogy at Jacob Cross's funeral - he wasn't sure what to say at first - could he have said that he would have shot him if he had a gun that day - could he say that he would have ended his life for him?

_No._

"I'm not sure what to say - I didn't write a speech."

Could he say that he hadn't spoken to Jake for months before he died?

"I couldn't, you see. Because there's something about Jake that seemed like - he wouldn't want much of a speech."

It was hard not to repeat the words that Jacob had said to him - that he was a lapdog -

"He and I.. we had our falling out. But he wasn't himself then. And I don't think he'd want us to remember him like -" He choked, "Like that."

His eyes caught Zeke Baylor's on the third row - holding onto Sharpay Evans's hand tightly - "I remember our first day at basketball tryouts in the sixth grade. It was going to be me, Troy, and Zeke - and we were going to be the stars of the team, all the way up though high school," he laughed a little bit and loosened his tie, "Well of course we had it all planned already, we were in sixth grade. But then came along this little skinny white boy telling us he was going to be the star of the team - he and his family had just moved to Albuquerque and we thought - what a little snot."

The congregation laughed, "But we found out that he was really good. And really cool. And soon it was obvious - Troy, Zeke, Jake, and me. We were going to be the stars of the team. And we were. But it was more than that. We were friends. We spent so much time pushing each other to the limits - so far that we'd fall out on each other's beds after a workout and just sleep their all night without even eating or showering or anything - And then Jake would wake up the next morning before all of us and want to go again -" He laughed slightly, "And I think that's how I'd like to remember him. That guy who could make me want to be better. Not just at basketball but at everything."

And he looks out at the congregation and he sighs, "Thank you."

Nobody mentions the shooting that day - it doesn't seem right to mention it at all.

He was a good kid - I'm sorry for your loss - Wish we could go back and help him -

But that's all it is - wishing. You can't change the past more than you can fix the present before it's gone. Troy Bolton pats Chad Danforth on the back as they lower Jacob Cross's body into the ground and Chad begins to cry. Taylor McKessie holds his hand just a little tighter, and Zeke Baylor understands - he wipes tears from his own eyes.

Because they are all wishing they'd given their friend one more chance.


End file.
